The Second American Revolution Has Begun! Then What?

Does anyone, ANYONE seriously think this country can continue in the same vein for much longer?

Be honest.

Our Captain and his Officers are steering us right toward the rocks, and his Officers are steady clapping him on the back, cheering him on.

As for passengers and crew - a few are yelling "Rocks! Turn!" Most are yelling "Trust him!"

And the others say, "I don't want to look!"

I don't know much about anything, but I'm damned certain that our current track is disaster.

Economic disaster will mean a national security disaster. Economic disaster will be the method of instituting a social and Constitutional disaster.

Fine. You SOB's that don't want to look . . . those of you who just wanted a change in course without seeing where we're going - you're in for a rude awakening.

And soon.

Hope you can swim.

reply to post by dooper

I whole heartedly feel your frustration. Each passing day it seems the picture gets clearer. It is as though we are being hearded into the abyss. Those that hail this fast paced juggernaut are the ones that frustrate me the most. Ignorance is one thing that can be forgiven, complicity is an entirely different matter.
How could the destruction of our constitutional rights not be taken personally ? Who can stand by and watch our heritage burn to the ground,and do nothing?

This is what I feel about being outnumbered and out gunned:

[atsimg]http://files.abovetopsecret.com/files/e2baa7aa050c94ea.jpg[/atsimg]

reply to post by SGTChas


As I told you... You're just not right sometimes.

At least it's not Mickey!

reply to post by SGTChas

I like Mad Mike Hoare's last words: "We've got them surrounded from the inside!"

Might be due entirely to the fact of my military experience, but numbers mean NOTHING!

We never went out that we weren't outnumbered.

The thing was, I discovered I was a whole crowd all by myself!

reply to post by dooper


You know, the only time I ever felt like a true Special Forces soldier was in Nicaragua November 1985 (OPPS!) Honduras. We had been ‘assisting’ Contra Rebels with ‘training’ when all hell broke loose; one of those put your head between your legs and kiss yourself goodbye moments. Not having the experience or demeanor of my elder brother dooper, I don’t mind saying I was just a tad bit scared as what was left of a tactical insertion A team was being chased by three companies of Sandinistas back to the Coco; this as I was in command and that is one lonely job in those conditions.

Lets see, it was one of the worst months for rain – sheets of water so thick you could not see through them that went on for ever like some giant flush of the toilets of heaven – everything was wet, you never were dry because when it was not raining it was like a wet oven; foot after foot I pushed the men and myself, continuing through some wet, green version of Dante's Inferno, all the while knowing that certain death was approaching; fear something you could taste and feel even through the rain.

My forward observer was a new American former British SAS CSM who could call an airstrike in the middle of a mortar barrage and a hail of bullets, all the while drinking tea and keeping his impeccably waxed mustache high and tight. He spoke fourteen languages fluently and ridiculed me relentlessly about learning English. When questioned as to how he ended up a US Air force Master Sergeant he would merely answer, “Sometimes knowing when to change sides is the best part of bravery.” His demeanor belayed anymore questions, but his riding crop and ‘Rock of Gibraltar’ attitude and bearing were indispensible to a lowly Staff Sergeant who had taken over command of what was left of a Special Forces Team.

Now this had been a real moment of fate because I had been the Weapons SGT of the team until the Captain, CWO, Intel SGT and Commo SGT had brought the farm by being real stupid; bless their damn Yankee hearts, they had left me a real cluster ****. Less than 1000 rds rifle, 3x30 rd Mac 10 45 ACP clips, 2 Claymore mines, 8xM67 fragmentation grenades, 36x12 gauge 3 Ought Mag Shot gun shells and scavenged Warsaw Pack weapons and side arms. None of us had had anything to eat but scavenged food for a week and the damn Sandinistas were actually acting like soldiers for once. All of this made for one hell of an introduction to an A team command.

Now, though assigned to the team as a FO, Master Sergeant McAlison could never enter the chain of command of an A team (he was busy with ‘spook’ stuff), thus his main value was in his absolute dedication to the chain of command; WHEN HE called me “Sir”, all others shut up and followed, even though I was wishing I could hide. Indeed, it was his “Sir, what are your orders?” that snapped me into doing my job by what I had been trained to do by repetition a million times.

Having come to a fairly large stream with a rock incrusted hill on the far bank, I realized here would make a fairly good defensible position as the Sandinistas had closed to under a 1000 yards. Man was it a spooky stream; seemingly below the mud we crossed, it was moving fast and was greatly swollen due to rain, its other bank sharply rising to a rock cliff that tapered on each side giving natural cover on the flanks. The fields of fire were clear to almost 200 yards at its front, which was a gift from God considering our location.

Setting up took little time as all were tired of running and ready to face the faceless horror we had fled from for eight days. I assigned one long range riffle man as a ‘quick reaction’ element to cover both flacks as needed, while I took center stage with “Ma Bell” (My M26 Sniper Riffle). Then we made coffee (being still wet behind the ears as a ‘Commander’, I brushed off attempts at ‘serving’ me; all damn butter bars and 90 day wonders need to get a life) and I pulled out my saved special treat, a fruit cocktail and angel food cake C ration cans (MRE’s were just getting widely issued) I had kept right next to my box of 44 mag ++P rounds (Ruger single action Black Hawk baby, if they are that damn close you want them DOWN), and said my ‘Hail Mary’s’ and ‘Our Fathers’ in between bites of mixed heaven in the jungle.

Then my one moment of battle command (forgive me dooper and others as I know this is nothing compared to your service), the moment when the whole jungle exploded; bullets sailing like rain, they came as if someone had tipped them off. Waiting until the largest portion of them had past, I ordered the claymores set off as they were facing each other from the flanks of the approach; the herding effect made them easy targets and they quickly lost heart.

The fight had lasted less than 2 hours, and it will never make any history books, but victory and survival were sweet; out numbered and out gunned, but we still kicked ***.

[edit on 6/25/2009 by SGTChas]

reply to post by SGTChas


It's not the size of the dog in a fight - it's the size of the fight in a dog.

Alexander at Guagamela, the British at Roarke's Drift, the First Cav at LZ X-Ray, Caesar at Alesia, the Greeks at Marathon, Xenophone and the 10,000, and literally hundreds of other examples demonstrate clearly that the most numerous, the most powerful, and the most favored, means nothing.

I've said it for decades, and folks look at me funny, but numbers mean NOTHING!

Just a review of the Medal of Honor write-ups document single men taking on entire reinforced companies - and winning.

The bad thing about numbers? Everyone is relying on someone else to make something happen.

When you are alone or very few, each one knows what he has to do.

And you just do it.

reply to post by dooper


Truly high praise from you sir, but perhaps covering that nagging call to action as to preserve your oath to duty? Never disrespect, yet you know this coming fight is yours, as well as mine; one last mission and one last objective sir.

reply to post by SGTChas


Sarge, if I were just dooper, he' say phooey with it, I'm not engaging again. I fought my fights, I took my scalps, during my war. And walk off.

But there is this other guy Dooper, who has family, friends, and a reputation to uphold. He can't walk away. He may want to given a real choice - but there really isn't a choice.

My die was cast long ago, and I could no more run from a critical battle now than I could before. Fearful I always was. Cowardly, no.

I chuckled when you related that you felt fear. Hell, you think everyone else didn't feel the same way?

Choice.

A little word that has a whole lot of meanings. Some may perceive a choice where the man himself sees none.

Some choices are of our own doing - some are done for us.

Sometimes - past decisions leave but one choice. You can't change what you are anymore than you can change your heart.

[edit on 25-6-2009 by dooper]

Originally posted by dooper

My die was cast long ago, and I could no more run from a critical battle now than I could before. Fearful I always was. Cowardly, no.

I chuckled when you related that you felt fear. Hell, you think everyone else didn't feel the same way?

Glad you brought up the topic of fear, and contrasted it with cowardice. There's lots of folks that can't tell the difference. I've been lurking a couple of other threads where a few folks have that particular brand of myopia.

If a man tells me he ain't never been scared, that man is either a liar or a psychopath, doubly so if he's faced bullets and still says that. I'd rather he be on the other side. Folks like that will get you killed, PERMANENTLY dead.

Fear is fear. It's there for a resaon, usually to give you enough caution to not do unneccessarily foolish things.

"Cowardice" is when a man lets his fear control him. "Courage", on the other hand, is when he controls IT.

That "fear" is usually there in a dustup, for me at least. The trick is to get a grip on it and make the fear work for you, not the other way around.

Otherwise, you, and your companions, might not see the other side of the fight.

That's just MY view of things. Ohter folks' mileage may vary.

Now with the current legislation of Cap and Trade Carbon Tax and Single Payer socialized medicine the die has been cast; soon they will pull the economic plug to be able to declare martial law for the final end game, sovereignty was always the issue and we have been giving it up for safety, economic security and peace. We shall now see how many real Americans there are left as ‘Joe Six-pack’ is about to be kicked off the couch.

Originally posted by SGTChas
Now with the current legislation of Cap and Trade Carbon Tax and Single Payer socialized medicine the die has been cast; soon they will pull the economic plug to be able to declare martial law for the final end game, sovereignty was always the issue and we have been giving it up for safety, economic security and peace. We shall now see how many real Americans there are left as ‘Joe Six-pack’ is about to be kicked off the couch.

Today I reached a pivotal point.I watched as elected officals turned their backs on the welfare of the American people. I hold no reverence for those that conspire to rule. The wealth of this great country is about to be sold off to the highest and best bidder. I wonder how many of these people have property in Equador? In my opinion our congress is filled with traitors to the country and have comitted treasonist acts,time and time again.
Any directive that comes out of washington,from this point on will be considered an unlawful act. It will be dealt with accordingly!!!

reply to post by daddyroo45


Welcome to the Militia Marine; lock and load, the red coats are coming!

Sarge, I reread some of this page. Now you know damned good and well that us SF types ALWAYS have one more mission in us.

One more click, one more hour, one more effort, one more objective. One more mission.

Pelosi's latest effort today.

They are determined to force it, aren't they?

One thing I would ask of some of you old wolves, pass on the wisdom! A lot of you guys remind me of my father. For years he predicted the upcoming revolution. Only recently I realized how right he was/is. He's been teaching me reloading. He was the hunter, "gun nut" loose cannon. I didn't always listen to his teachings when I was younger. Now it's time to cram for the final! He is diabetic and even though he wouldn't have a problem at first eventually he'd be affected. He like's to think because of his age all he has to offer in our struggle is his life. The younger generations will need the old warriors to show them some of their tricks and wisdom. I'm way past thinking I'm immortal, tactics, logistics and weapons training is what we'll need.

reply to post by hangedman13


Well said.


Mod Edit Mod Note: One Line Post – Please Review This Link.

[edit on 29-6-2009 by elevatedone]

reply to post by hangedman13


Well said indeed... The men that have been there before us will be the men that guide our actions.

Every day, I learn something new from one of my elders. Even if it is just how to tie a different knot to accomplish a specific rigging, I've learned something to add to the catalog.

Age is just a number, and I cast my lot proudly among these "dinosaurs".

They are still raptors, after all... And should be respected accordingly.

Good post!

I've been trying to throw in a pointer here and there, but teaching isn't really my forte. Special Forces is trained to train (*cough*.. Dooper... *cough*... Sarge...*cough*). There's a LOT to learn, and just a little time to learn it, without some sort of "classroom" structure, and some serious hands-on.

Some of it can't be learned by reading, but has to be learned by doing. Practical exercises, that sort of thing. That's the only way you can learn what rattles, what shines, and what you need to cover up to hide good.

And it's really the only way to learn how to kill without being killed, and not actually have to kill something in the process. Or get killed.

Find someone near you who has lived through the training, and can impart it, then get in the field. If you can't find anyone, get out on your own and learn "sneakin'". Hunting experience is the next best thing, and turns out some fine snipers, but that don't really help much with small-unit tactics or leadership skills.

Get some military small-unit manuals ( I'd recommend Ranger and Special Forces manuals), devour them and practice. Fort Benning's Ranger Department used to put out a good tactical manual called "Dismounted Patrolling" for Ranger-type operations (ambushes, raids, movement, etc.). The Ranger Handbook has a lot of tactical stuff boiled down, and a section on small unit leadership, but there's a lot in it these days that won't apply to anyone without a supply line, or air support.

When you practice, use paintball guns. They sting enough that you don't WANT to get hit, but at the same time they don't damage the goods too much, and a hit can't be denied. It's also a good way to acclimate yourself to shooting at living, breathing, moving things, which ain't always as easy as the movies make it look. Hesitation will kill ya.

Target practice with those styrofoam manikin wig heads. Paint eyes on 'em first. Something about eyes sometimes makes it harder to pull a trigger, and you have to get used to it.

Learn as much as you can about various kinds of "military" firearms. Stripping, cleaning, reassembling, sight adjustments, controls, etc. Ya never know when a battlefield pickup weapon will be your best friend.

If we get lucky and it don't come to a war, you can always use the leadership skills in management, and the rest in hunting, or embark on an exciting career in law enforcement or security. There's more civilian bleedover than you think, if you get creative.

I gotta git, maybe a little more later.





[edit on 2009/6/28 by nenothtu]

reply to post by nenothtu


While it is true hands on is the best training, a manuals knowledge with heart are indispensible. A man or woman with heart and a desire to carry out ones duty to their nation and people has the very foundation upon which honor and courage are built. Give me a few with heart and I can accomplish more than numerous hired thugs, as learning the art of being a soldier will come to them as natural companion to 'heart'.

[edit on 6/29/2009 by SGTChas]

If the pro . . . WHEN the proverbial SHTF, you survival will be the first victory.

And the second.

And third.

And on and on.

In the very process of survival, you'll learn fast enough about keeping your own scalp while taking scalps.

Maybe Sarge and some others can help here, but there are some always do's and some never do's. These principles never change. You may break one on occasion and get away with it, but often enough, only once.

1. Never, ever follow an anticipated line of approach. This means you don't follow the road, don't walk the trail, don't ever come back the same way you went out, you never hold a "direction."

You zig-zag while moving, often seeming to even reverse course. Thus you can't be anticipated and then beaten to your objective.

2. Unless being pursued by a superior force, at random, drop off and wait to see what, if anything is on your back trail. Take your time and be patient.

3. In transit, always have everyone in your group understand where your rendevous point will be in the event during the night everyone must suddenly relocate. "Five hundred yards thataway!" is often sufficient.

4. In the event that this occurs, have a few who will go maybe 100 yards in that direction, and set up a hasty covering ambush. They must know to let your people run through, and frequently enough, pursuers, when seeing runners - will abandon caution and run with reckless abandonment. That's what you want. And when you hit them, you kill the hell out of them. Bloody their nose. Hurt them. Make them more cautious.

Once everyone is gathered, move out in a divergent direction from the one you previously were pursuing.

5. Always post night watches with reasonable times for being on watch. This will depend on how many you have. For some help, try to use early warning devices, including trip wires. These should not just be an encirclement, but actually layered.

6. Another trick is to "set up" late in the afternoon, and move maybe fifty or a hundred meters right at dark for your actual bivouack. (one you previously scouted.) We really caught them with their britches down a few times when they'd assault where we "were," and as they were mingling around trying to find out what the hell was going on, we'd tear into them and haul ass in the confusion.

7. If you have people, every quarter or half hour, have them pause while a few of your best scouts check out things ahead for a half a click or so. One stays at the farthest point, one drops off halfway back, and the other returns to get the others. This really helps eliminate surprises.

8. Any shooting at night is painfully obvious. Only do so when you can't miss. Then, make it count, make it short, and roll a few feet away from where you were.

9. Think! Don't never, ever forget nothing. Not when it's for real. When you're tired, the rule of threes is good. Check yourself, your "camp," your buddies, and your weapons three times before moving. You'd be surprised at the screw-ups you can avoid that way. In any situation where conflict occurs, the one that makes the fewest mistakes wins. That is why the devil is in the details. Let them screw up!

10. Simple is best. Simple rarely breaks, gets confused, or gets misunderstood. Keep things as simple and as basic as you can while accomplishing your task, while moving, while defending, while attacking. Think. Because if something CAN go wrong, it always will.

It is fortunate that the fog of (war) conflict is thrust upon both sides. This is why attention to details is so critical. One detail can make the difference between living and the other alternative.

God, I could go on and on, but this has to be getting boring.

Got my guys one time with an Juicy Fruit gum wrapper.

Sarge, maybe we need to compile some of these little "tricks of the trade."