bloggie

Mr. Churchill also called the president of the New School, Robert Kerrey, a former senator of Nebraska, a "mass murder and serial killer to boot" for having served in Thanh Phong, Vietnam. Mr. Churchill also served in Vietnam, an act for which he said he has spent the rest of his life apologizing.
Mr. Churchill received cheers from the audience for comparing Mr. Kerrey to the serial killer Charles Manson. "That's who you've got moral equivalency in the president's chair at this institution," Mr. Churchill said. "How about a cage rather than a president's suite?"

Since Colorado University refused to fire this POS, despite ample reasons to do so that had nothing to do with politics, Chutch now knows he can say and do anything he pleases, free of any repercussions.

How can this be? Isn't he languishing in one of the Bushitler gulags, now?

If Kerrey hadn't gotten involved in the 9-11 Commission shenanigans, he'd be one of the few Democrats I might still respect.

Mr. Churchill also served in Vietnam, an act for which he said he has spent the rest of his life apologizing.

"Threading the movie projector haunts...haunts me to this day..."

Did DL go away for a few minutes?

Your mom's been doing it all day.

Come back of the year?

So Ward Churchill was in New York city, eh? Wonder if he took his brutha-man fist pumping act solo in to the the South Bronx or Bedford-Stuyvesant (or their equivalent 1970's era type neighborhoods...haven't been there in a long time now...maybe they're bettr now). Or did he confine his antics to the company of pouty mouthed college students in secure setting?

As for his remarks about C M of H recipient Robert Kerrey, a man who, as a US Navy Seal Team Leader, left body parts shattered on the ground in Vietnam....well, they're too absurd and obscene to be anything but laughable.

Chruchill is a fake and fraud in everything he says and does. Actually I wish the press would ignore him.

Well, I guess that's better than being a chickenhawk.

Something I have wanted to say for a long time and just didn’t have the words……or feel like it.

What POS's like Churchill and the little new-leftie folks, of the 60’s and 70’s, as well as today, as well as a large number of the general public, just don't understand about Vets of Vietnam, or any other war is this: No one hates war more than a soldier.

We tapped our feet and sang along with all the songs of the era, both anti-war and those not so. Jefferson Airplane, Three Dog Night, The Who, The Guess Who, Janis Joplin, Joan Baez, The Doors, CCR, King Crimson, Country Joe McDonald & The Fish, et al ad infinitum blared from every portable cassette player, or radio where broadcast. Songs like “Proud Mary”, “Runnin’ through the Jungle”, “Break on through to the Other side”, “LA Woman”, “Fixin’ to Die Rag”, etc. had special meaning to us. We listened and clapped along when relaxing, when drinking beer, when smoking weed, when popping Bennies, when getting in to fights now and then among ourselves. We didn’t miss much. And we damn sure didn’t like war. But that was the difference, we were in war, and the rest were not. There was “them” and there was “us.”

We might have a mortar round or twenty come in during a drum roll, or guitar riff, or discover sappers in the wire. We might be going out on a patrol the next morning at dawn and some never come back, and we knew that, too. Some of those patrols lasted over 3 weeks at a crack for the really tough troops. Some of those tough men might have to go out on Long Range Reconnaissance, scouting those who were scouting us in a lethal cat and mouse game. Some of those tough men might have to call artillery in on top of themselves, if being over run in their positions. Some of those tough men, US Marines in this case, went out to remote village sand moved right in and lived there, 8 or 9 guys alone except for the civilian nationals. In the CAP program. Some of them would fight and die defending that little village and themselves.

If in a base camp, we might be the one sent out on “Listening Post” that night, to await enemy infiltrators on the perimeter, and let them pass us by while we quietly radioed the information, some times with just key clicks, since we were surrounded and had no escape. Flares would go up, claymores would go off, all hell would break loose…....behind us. We had to know how to tell if the men moving through the trees, bush, and grass were friendly or foe. We didn’t get to “come in” until after sunrise so the guys on perimeter wouldn’t smoke us on the way in.

We’d play the “Fish Cheer” from Woodstock as loud as we could, cheering the line about “be the first one on your block, to have your boy come home in a box..” God damn right! Yeah! We knew we were those boys, perhaps with the next bullet. That made us bigger than you, we didn’t run. We laughed. It felt good to be macho. We had something, however slight, that you did not.

Yes, we did all of those things, and still we sang and laughed with the left wing nuts, and with the rest of you all, even when we came home. Even with those born after the war. But there is a difference, we did it, and you did not, we were better than you. Just ask us. We’d likely not tell you otherwise…...unless you ran off at the mouth. Ordinarily we’d look at you with a form of benign pity if you spoke much of what you didn’t know. But if you asked us, we might tell you, or we might not. Mostly not, it just wasn’t important anymore.

It didn’t mean a thing. Not God damned thing.

#13
Beautiful post. I feel like I never know what to say to a war veteran and it's because of what you said, he's been to war and I have not. But I can shut up and listen.

I had enough relatives whose lives were changed by The War, in many different ways, that I always felt (and still feel) a certain reverence for anyone who was part of it. The funny thing is, we (kids) didn't hear the horror stories. In fact, the worst parts of it were not discussed, which perhaps made them even more powerful. But my great-uncle, in particular, would tell us all kinds of stories from the war (and Korea, and Africa) that were mostly funny, or heroic, or the minutiae of life in a war zone, and yet somehow conveyed better than any (expletive deleted) academic or "pacifist" ever could how dreadful war was.

Thanks so much for your post, Thru a Veteran's eyes.

I get to be the pedant tonight....

Robert Kerrey vs John Kerry....just like Whiskey versus Whisky, the good one's are spelled with an extra "e." [Jefe can verify]

What to say to a veteran: "Hi" and "Nice to see you."

War stories: Only the funny and minute are worth telling, a sense of humor pervades, even in war.

"I need a couple a guys what don't owe me no money for a little patrol tonight."

Scandanavian nerds are the nerdiest nerds of all.

Okay, you bigots all...where is Vikhram?!!

Couldn't Vikhram be a blue-eyed blonde with strange parents? Is this some sort of Racial stereotyping?

Couldn't Vikhram be a blue-eyed blonde with strange parents?

...or wore lipstick and had a scant mustache. :-)

Hmmmm... I thought I had coined a Neologism, but it looks like at least 38 people beat me to it.

How do you do it? It's a rare talent, to be able to pull an apt photo out of your ass for any bloggie occasion.

I believe
THIS is how I got started.

Sigh...
In the days before he captioned all his pics...

Thanks, Mrs L.!

wow, cliff hasn't updated his page in a looooong time!

Yeah, and the captions on his last bunch of photos aren't anywhere near as good as the rest.

I notice that his newest photos are tagged with "cliff yablonski - do not steal!!"