Good friends, good read

So I recently finished my copy of Calexit, the Anthology, by J.L. Curtis, aka Old NFO, and several other great contributing authors, to include Bob Poole, Cedar Sanderson, Tom Rogneby, Alma Boykin, B Opperman, L B Johnson, Eaton Rapids Joe, Lawdog, and Kimball O'Hara.

I know most of these other writers as well, and if you rerad this blog's sidbar, so do you. All are great people and great patriots, and their assembled stories of life after California, currently America's most useless and least patriotic state, are all worthy of a read and consideration.

In fact it took me a while to read this because I wanted to savor each shot story, so I read no more than one a day. And I was sorry to turn that last page.

If you love America and hate the way that the Left is trying to ruin it, get a copy of this book and see what could happen if the Left gets their way and transforms California into their idea of utopia. (Think "Lord of the Flies" only with the force of government behind it.)

I loved this book and I hope there is another one coming. Meantime, go get you a copy here

Junk shop find and other cool loot.

Went to investigate a report of a discarded but complete generator out by a curb with some trash. While over there, I found a store full of old junk nearby. The store has a book shelf in the back.

Nabbed this for three dollars.

Sometimes life is good.

Oh--and I got the generator too; a 4,000w gasoline-powered job. Neglected but appears fixable and too damned useful to abandon to the trash man with hurricane season arriving. I should have it running within a few days of the already-ordered repair parts arriving. It'll be my back-up generator, seconding a 6,000w unit that will power a single-room air conditioner, a lamp or two, the microwave, refrigerator and security cameras should the power go out for any length of time. With the water heater gas-powered and my rotating stockpile of food and water I think the dogs and I can do ok for a while.

And now we'll have a book to read as well.

An unexpected find indeed.

So I'd been reading this book about Ernie Pyle.

The book had been a gift, and while I'd known a little about Pyle, it really gave me a feel for the man and the tragic side of his life as well as the heroic side we all know--the most-read and most-admired war correspondent of World War Two, if not all time.

The book started with his pre-war life, naturally, and went on to chronicle his movements with our troops as he wrote column after column for the Scripps-Howard newspapers, not about the war per se, but about the men who fought it. Pyle specialized in meeting and writing about the individual soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines that fought the war--everyone from bomber crews to rangers to ordnance corps men...but mostly the common soldiers and rarely if ever the officers.

As I read about his columns, and how much America back home loved them, I got to be wondering if anyone had ever compiled a book of them. I even thought briefly about researching them and putting something together, but then I read on and found out that there was a book of them printed, called "Here is Your War" and it was published in 1943.

After finishing this book, I decided that I wanted a copy of that book as well. I had to read these columns for myself, seventy-plus years later. But I've been busy here and hadn't gotten around to looking on-line for a copy yet. And then today, rustling around the house trying to "rest", I just found this on my book shelf:

I HAD a copy. No idea where or when I picked it up. Probably had it for years. Never even noticed it before. I have over a thousand books. This happens sometimes. But usually it's when I buy a book that looks great only to take it home and find a copy on the shelves already. This is the first time I found one that I wanted before I bought it.

Checking the publishing date inside: July, 1945.

That's just three months after Ernie Pyle, America's most beloved war correspondent, was killed by a Japanese machine gunner on the island of Ie Shima, April 18th, 1945.

Book Review: "So I Bought an Air Force. The true story of a gritty midwesterner in Somoza's Nicaragua."

It's been awhile since I've reviewed a book, but this one certainly warrants it.

So I Bought an Air Force: The True Story of a Gritty Midwesterner in Somoza's Nicaragua

This is the story of Will Martin, a man who, in 1960, on the rebound from the collapse of a family business, got the idea to travel to Nicaragua and buy that country's obsolete air force, consisting of 21 North American P-51D Mustangs and two Republic P-47 Thunderbolts. The US had just given Nicaragua new T-33 and P-80 jet fighters and the World War Two prop fighters were considered scrap.

The basic premise seemed simple: Martin would purchase the aircraft, the Nicaraguan military would get them ready for the ferry flights home, and Martin would pay as he took them and re-sell them back in America to get the money to keep buying the rest of the Mustang fleet. "You can fly a plane a week out of here!" the Nicaraguans promised.

And so began a tale of Martin's life in Nicaragua, a tale spanning the net two years of his life as he fought to overcome the inefficiency and corruption of the Nicaraguan military and the Mexican government, unqualified and incompetent ferry pilots, unscrupulous aircraft brokers in the States, and even the vengeful and politically-connected machinations of expatriate American Jerry DeLarm, who is famous in warbird circles as a mercenary pilot who flew for pretty much everybody with a grudge against anyone else in Central America back in the 1950s.

Martin managed to get most of the Mustangs back to the US eventually, with he and his ferry pilots crashing several--and both of the P-47s--due to mechanical problems. And it was truly heartbreaking to see aircraft like that--worth millions of dollars today--casually destroyed or abandoned where they were set down with only minor damage just because there was no cheap or easy way to recover them. Martin also flew several T-28 trainers and A-26 bombers from America down to Nicaragua (and those flights tended to have their problems as well), and the most amazing thing is that he pretty much taught himself to fly all of these aircraft types by studying the manuals before jumping in and taxiing them to the runway. It was an adventure that I'm admittedly jealous of as I put the book on my bookshelf, having finished it. And to think that all of these aircraft were cheap (a few thousand dollars could get you your choice of a flyable one of most any type) and plentiful in the 1960s and 70s. If there was ever a reason for a time machine...

But if you love history, vintage warbirds, or simply tales of people overcoming obstacles and getting things done, you'll love this book. I know that I sure did.

On Dogs and Books and Books on Dogs.

There are three kinds of people in America today.

The first are those poor folks who have never read friend Brigid's book, The Book of Barkley: Love and Life Through the Eyes of a Labrador Retriever.

Brigid wrote this book after she lost both her beloved Lab Barkley and her only brother, adopted with her from Foster care, and a Navy Veteran in his 50's, to sudden, aggression cancers, within weeks of each other early in 2014. This is their story--one of memory, hope and faith.

The second kind of people are those who have read this book but not yet voted for it to win London's Bookbzz's Prize Writer Competition. Currently this book is just a bit out of first place, and right now it's there because of the third type of people, namely those who have read this book and voted for it to win, as I and others here have done.
Winners in each genre will be televised on National Book Day and receive a cash prize. The link to vote through Google Plus, Facebook or Twitter is below.

http://bookbzz.com/prize-writer-biography-memoir-vote/

If you are one of the second sort, someone who read it but did not vote yet, go there and vote, and vote quickly. If Brigid's book wins, she'll be donating every penny to the disaster response dogs of Search Dog Foundation of California, a worthy cause indeed.

Now if you're one of the first sort--someone who has never read this book--go here, get a copy, read it, and cast a vote for it before Feb 28th. A lot of rescue dogs are counting on you.

Tank You Very Much.

While out and about in Washington DC the other day, I happened across this nifty M60 M48 tank on the grounds of the Armed Forces Retirement Home.

I'd seen it for some time through their fence off North Capitol Street, so the other day I stopped by their main office and they were kind enough to allow me access to take some pictures.

This one is one of the first-generation M60s, later generation M48s and it sports the long bore-evacuated 105mm main gun, as you can see here.

These machines weighed in at approximately 50 tons, and they were powered by a Continental V-12 air-cooled, twin-turbocharged diesel engine that put out 750 horsepower. (Air cooled? How do you do that on an engine that big, especially one encased in steel?)

As you can see, this one is in great shape, without a single broken light or missing fixture.

Close-up of the turret below shows an interesting logo welded on the hull. Didn't notice it until I got home and went through the pics. What do you suppose it is? Perhaps Detroit Tank Arsenal's version of a hood ornament?

Detroit made a lot of these. Between 1952 and 1959, they produced over 12,000 of them for the US Military and our allies, and Pakistan was still using them in Somalia in 1993.

The US Marines made great use of them in Vietnam, literally writing the book on jungle operations with these monsters that were designed for the open battlefields of Europe. The VC and NVA quickly learned to fear them. A great book on that aspect of the war is Praying for Slack: A Marine Corps Tank Commander in Viet Nam by Robert E. Peavey. Likewise, Ralph Zumbro has written several good books on tanks and tank combat, with Tank Aces being a favorite of mine.

Gotta admit, I'd love to have this beauty under my carport. But she's apparently being well-cared for where she is, and she's where she belongs, serving out her days in the company of other veterans. Still, I'll likely pop back to visit her every now and again, just because.

EDITED TO ADD: Reader Knucklehead informs me that this is an M-48, not an M-60.

I still need one, though.

Buy a Book, Save a Dog

This week-end, and through Christmas, Brigid's wonderful book is on sale on Kindle.

If you haven't bought a copy yet, now is the time. She's donating all the proceeds to a Lab Rescue organization that is dealing with a sudden influx of dogs that needs lots of medical help. Read about that here.

Peanut's Promise

You buy a book, you help those dogs. And then I don't have to send these two over to mess your place up.

"We think that it would be in the best interest of all concerned for you to buy the book."

And the book makes a wonderful Christmas gift, as do donations to the above-mentioned Lab Rescue or any other reputable animal shelter.

Another book that I can't say enough about

As you may or may not have heard, Brigid's wonderful book detailing life with Barkley, the fabled Black Lab of the Internet.

The Book of Barkley: Love and Life Through the Eyes of a Labrador Retriever

Brigid's book, though it hasn't been out that long, just made the top ten best-selling list for August of 2014.

Top 10 Best-Selling Books in Self-Publishing for August 2014

It's a great book about a great dog written by one of the finest people that I know, and it's worth your time to get a copy, either tree or Kindle, and read it. You'll be glad that you did.

Get this book. Get it today. And if you've already gotten a copy, they make great gifts, so get more.

So I'm driving into work this morning...

and I'm pissed, because I got a late start. Now I made most of the lost time up through "creative driving", but then I wound up hitting the drive-through coffee spot half a second behind some jerkwater in a minivan who placed an order and then pulled up to the pick-up window and just sat there, waiting, for SIX MINUTES! Now I and others behind me are also forced to wait due to the high curbs that prevent us from just chucking our orders and driving away, so all I can do is curse and beam hate-waves at this guy for SIX MINUTES while I wait for a FREAKING CUP OF COFFEE, all because this ass-monkey ordered a bag of breakfast sandwiches and INSISTED that they be made fresh, according the trained food-hander-outer at the window.

Now I'm pissed at this guy for being such a thoughtless jackass when he could have just as easily parked and gone inside to wait on this order, but I'm also cheesed at the lazy slobs at the drive-thru who couldn't be bothered to tell this chowderhead to pull ahead fifteen feet and let the rest of us get our simple orders and be gone. I mean, God forbid that "Double-wide Bertha" at the window actually have to walk this guy's sack of sandwiches out to him...far better that me and everyone else in line line sit and cool our heels, because hey--we're only on the way to our jobs, right? So what if we're late?

And yeah, when I got to work, I looked up the drive-thru and hit both their website and their corporate site with a complaint only slightly less strong than this one. Bad customer service exists because too many people are willing to take it. And tomorrow, I'll get my coffee at the gas station across the street.

Breath.

Another breath.

Better now.

Anyway, just a bit later, I'm getting texted at 5AM by my mother, who is just getting to bed after a night spend clubbing reading Old NFO's first book "The Grey Man--Vignettes", which I sent her on Kindle yesterday. (It's on special this week, so check it out.) She apparently could not put it down and stayed up all night reading it. She said that she hasn't read a book that good in a long time and begged for anything else that he writes.

Well, coincidentally, he did write another one, and it's just now out: The Grey Man--Payback. And her new Kindle copy is enroute to her as I type this. And my hard-copy version is on it's way here to complement my copy of the first book (which I seem to have misplaced...)

Anyway...Buy this book.

If you bring your copies to next month's blogshoot in eastern West Virginia, I suspect that the author will sign them.

Dueling Loser lawsuits

In the news today: two losers competing to see who can file the dumbest lawsuit.

Fat loser number one: Andrew Rector, a 26 year old used car salesman with more chins than a chinese phone book who decided to take a nap at the ballpark only to come to the attention of a roving tv camera.


Yankees fan caught sleeping suing ESPN for $10 million

Since he was shown on the live cam sound asleep in the ballpark, Rector claims that he's been ridculed and mocked for being fat and stupid amd that his feelings have been hurt, so he's suing ESPN, the two commentators, the stadium and the New York Yankees for ten million dollars, claiming to have “suffered substantial injury” to his “character and reputation,” as well as “mental anguish, loss of future income and loss of earning capacity.”

And what's really sad is that he quickly found an ambulance-chasing lawyer named Valentine Okwara who is so skilled that his filing included statements like this one:

“These words and its insinuations presented the plaintiff as symbol of anything but failure.”

WTF does that even mean? Hey, fat, stupid guy...next time you file a totally frivolous lawsuit, at least try to find a lawyer who can speak and write in English, ok?

Oh, and apparently the guy still lives with his mom. No shocker there, right?


But Rector is not the only life failure who is abusing our courts and trying to score a quick buck off of people who don't owe them anything. He's still got some stiff competition from Jesse Ventura, the ex-wrestler and former governor of the State of Minnesota who is suing Taya Kyle, widow of murdered former Navy SEAL Chris Kyle, because Kyle told a tale in his book American Sniper about punching out a "scruffy faced loudmouth" in a bar who was running down President Bush and announcing that the Navy SEALS "deserved to lose a few men" in Iraq. Kyle never named this person but Ventura, no doubt seeing a chance for another fifteen minutes of fame, jumped up out of the chesap seats and yelled: "Hey, that was me, and it never happened!"

Jesse Ventura's defamation suit over 'American Sniper' Chris Kyle's book heads to court

Many people have noted the fact that Ventura didn't say jack about this while Kyle was still alive, but as soon as he died, killed by a fellow vet with PTSD that he was trying to mentor, Ventura quickly filed this suit against Kyle's widow, seeking a chunk of the profits from Kyle's book and a related movie that's in the works. Ventura seems to think that this anecdote, which filled less than a page in this book about Kyle's life and military exploits, somehow enriched Kyle unjustly and damaged Ventura's reputation. (Yeah, like Ventura ever had a reputation as anything other than a crater-mouthed clown.)

Again, Jesse has a lawyer who apparently hasn't warned him that as a public figure, Ventura has to prove actual malice or intentional disregard of the truth by Kyle AND he has to show specifically how he suffered harm, either of which will be difficult and combined, nearly impossible. Obviously what this was meant to be was an attempt to shake Taya Kyle down for some cash, but her refusal to just pay him off has now put him in a position where he can't win but can't back down without looking like even more of a twonk than he already does.

But just so there are no doubts...Jesse, this story of Kyle's doesn't make me think any less of you; I never thought you anything but a self-promoting jerk before this and my opinion of you wasn't affected in the least until you went after a grieving widow and the reputation of a man who did a lot more for America that you ever have or will.

When these suits are thrown out of court--and I predict that both will be--both plaintiffs and their lawyers should be sentenced to a few years of community service, pefhaps picking up litter or cleaning up graffitti, while wearing clown suits.

Tort reform, people. This is why we need it.

A Real Man Has Left Us

Louis Zamperini died yesterday at age 97.

Here was a man who lived several lives compressed into one.

The son of Italian immigrants, Zamperini started running track in high school as a means of staying out of trouble. He was so good that in 1934, he set a world record for the mile, running it in four minutes, twenty-one seconds. Making the US Olympic Team, he went to the Olympics in Berlin in 1936, where his running ability caused Adolph Hitler to ask to meet with him. In 1938, he again set a record for the mile, running it in four minutes, eight seconds, a record that would not be broken for fifteen years.


Louis Zamperini could have relied on his athletic abilities to keep him out of World War Two, but when war came, he enlisted and was commissioned a 2nd Lt. in the Army Air Corps where he became bombardier on a B-24 in the pacific.

While conducting a search-and-rescue flight looking for another lost bomber, his plane crashed into the ocean, killing eight of his fellow crewmen and leaving him and two others--Francis McNamara and Russell Phillips--to drift in a small raft with no food or water. Surviving on caught fish and rainwater, they drifted for more than a month before McNamara died. Two weeks later--forty-seven days after the crash--Zaperini and Phillips drifted up onto an island in The Marshals which was held by the Japanese. They were captured and while Phillips was murdered shortly thereafter by the Japanese, Zamperini was taken prisoner and held for two years under brutal conditions, spending most of his time in the Japanese Navy's secret Ofuna prison camp that also held Americans such as Richard O'Kane and Gregory "Pappy" Boyington.

Zamperini was held for two years, until the end of the war, enduring torture and starvation sufficient to prevent him from ever returning to running or flying. His return to America came as a shock to everyone as the Japanese had never admitted to holding him, therefore he'd been declared Killed in Action a year after the crash. Suffering from PTSD, his post-war life was rocky until 1949, when he met evangelist Billy Graham in Los Angeles, and with Graham's help, he began a new career ad a Christian inspirational speaker. He quickly became convinced that forgiveness was an essential requirement for his own salvation as well as that of others, and he set off to locate and forgive those Japanese prison guards who'd treated him so malevolently. He met with most of them in a prison camp where they were being held as war criminals and his sincerity in forgiving them and testifying to them won many of them over to Christianity. The only one that he was never able to reach was Mutsuhiro Watanabe, the worst guard in the camp. Watanabe was so bad that General MacArthur his him as #23 on his list of the 40 worst war criminals, but due to family and friends hiding him, Watanabe managed to avoid ever being arrested or punished for his crimes until the prosecution of Japanese war criminals ceased in 1956, at which time he simply rejoined society and became a wealthy man. Lousi Zamperini continued trying to meet with Watanabe without success even as late as 1988 when Zaperini, then 81 years old, was honored by being part of the Olympic Torch Relay in Japan of all places. Watanabe was publicly invited to meet with Zamperini with the world media watching but he again refused and slunk away. Watanabe died in 2003, unrepentant.

Louis Zamperini continued to live an active life in his later years, including much involvement with college and professional sports, even throwing out the first pitch in the Boston Red Sox/Chicago Cubs game in 2011. He was a guest on the Tonight Show with Jay Leno in 2012, speaking about his life, and had he lived, he's have been Grand Marshal of the Pasadena Rose Parade in 2015.



He was quite a man, and the sun shines a little dimmer this morning with his passing.

I first learned his story a few years ago when my father gave me a copy of Laura Hillenbrand's wonderful book Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption. (Available here at Barnes and Noble.)

It was one of those books that I at first resisted reading because I thought that Luara Hillenbrand, who hadn't even been born with World War Two was fought, couldn't possibly tell the story that well. Once I started reading it though, I discovered that I was wrong; she tells the story so well that I could scarcely put the book down until I'd finished it. It's a great book and you owe it to yourselves to get a copy and read it. Get one today and read it in honor f Louis Zamperini, a man who lived his whole life above and beyond what anyone had a reason to expect of him.

Book Review: Surviving Hell--A POW's Journey.

Recently I had the opportunity to read Surviving Hell--A POW's Journey by Leo Thorsness.

Major Thorsness was an F-105 pilot who flew "Wild Weasel" missions over N. Vietnam. These were the aircraft that went in ahead of the strike forces to try to lure enemy missile launchers to shoot them down so that they could turn around and attack the missile launcher once they'd succeeded in evading the missile. Not only was it dangerous on it's face, but it also meant that they were the first ones into the target area and the last ones to leave. It was some ballsy stuff, to be sure.

But Thorness had brass. He was nominated for (and subsequently awarded) the Medal of Honor for his heroic actions on April 18th, 1967.

Read the Medal of Honor citation here.

Sadly, Leo Thorness never even knew about this for years because just twelve days later, Thorsness and his back-seat Electronic Warfare Officer, Captain Harold E. Johnson were shot down by a pair of Mig 21 fighters, on what was to have been their 93rd mission out of the hundred needed to rotate them back home. Forced to eject at over 600mph, Thorsness suffered severe injuries to both knees which left hi unable to walk and he was captured shortly after hitting the ground. Harold Johnson was captured a short distance away. Also shot down and captured that day was Thornsess' wingman, 1st. Lt. Robert Abbott. (This event is also well-covered in Thud Ridge by Jack Broughton, who was also part of the unsuccessful rescue effort that day.)

Thorsness and his fellow pilots spent the next six years in captivity, but they were kept separated and did not see each other again until they were released in 1973. Aggravating and adding to his injuries from the bailout, Thorsness was tortured by the North Vietnamese, a common practice for those people that Jane Fonda identified with and supported. He talks about the brutality and the isolation of being held in solitary confinement, and learning the prisoners' "tap code" that they used to communicate with each other through the walls.

In 1970, the North Vietnamese decided to consolidate all of their prisoners in one large prison in Hanoi, Hoa Lo Prison, better known as the Hanoi Hilton. It was there that he spent time in the company of other captive warrior pilots such as Bud Day and James Stockdale (both of whom were Awarded the Medal of Honor for their leadership and resistance actions as prisoners) and John McCain.

On a side note here, I have never been a fan of John McCain the politician, but by every account I've read, he was a rock-solid resistor while captive and he'll always have my respect for that. During his run for President, Senator McCain was blasted by some doper lefty who cobbled up a hit-piece accusing him of collaborating with his captors, and that lie got a lot of play, but the accounts of every one of his fellow prisoners, including Thorsness in this book, crush that lie.

One of my favorite stories in this book is when Thorsness tells of how, when the POWS were finally grouped together, they decided that they wanted to hold a church service on Sunday. The first time that they did it, the guards broke it up and told them that they could not have a religious service. The officers talked among themselves and voted unanimously to defy them on the next Sunday and they did. Come Sunday morning, the ranking officer called the men together and began to lead them in The Lord's Prayer. "Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name..."
And that was as far as he got before the guards rushed in and took him away to be disciplined. But as soon as the guards hustled him out, the second highest-ranking officer took his place in front of the group and began again. "Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name..." Then the guards rushed in and grabbed him. And as soon as they'd dragged him off, the third highest-ranking officer stood up: "Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name..."
And down the line it went, until finally the Viets let the sixth-ranking officer complete the service. (Thorness admits to sweating a bit, as he was the seventh.) After that, they were allowed their service unmolested, a rare victory for the so-called "powerless" captive Americans.

He finally made it home in 1973, along with the rest of the prisoners, but his injuries prevented him from ever flying again. He ran an unsuccessful race for the US Senate against George McGovern, and then he moved to South Dakota and was narrowly beaten for a US House seat by Tom Daschle. Daschle won by 139 votes out of 129,000 cast. Thorsness than returned to Washington State and won a seat in the State Senate.

The book is short, but it's an easy read and one that, once started, you don't want to put down. I'm glad that I bought it and I recommend it wholeheartedly. A God-fearing patriotic family man who never let adversity beat him, Leo Thorsness is one of those men who personifies what it means to be a great American. Today's youth and leadership could take a lesson or two from him.

Look, look! I got a book!

This just came today.

Can't wait to start reading on it, especially after reading the author's impressive bio"

JL Curtis was born in Louisiana in 1851 and was raised in the Ark-La-Tex area. He began his education with guns at age eight with a flintlock pistol and a Grandfather that had carried one "in case those redcoats come back". He began competitive shooting after the war in company with shooters like Nathaniel Bedford Forrest and George A. Custer, an interest he still pursues time permitting. He is a retired Naval Flight Officer, having spent countless years serving his country from the Great War on up through Vietnam following initial flight training with the Wright Brothers. He is an NRA instructor (NRA Member #3), and currently works as a engineer in the defense industry, servicing gear that no else remembers how to work on. He lives in Northern Virginia, this is his first novel.

Buy it here.

Congrats on the book, my friend.

Book review: My Traitor's Heart: A South African Exile Returns to Face His Country, His Tribe, and His Conscience

My Traitor's Heart: A South African Exile Returns to Face His Country, His Tribe, and His Conscience

This book was one of several recommended to me by Peter, a native of South Africa, a few months back when I posed some questions to him about South Africa. My own knowledge of South Africa comes from historical study and pretty much ends with the defeat of the Boers by the British in the Second Boer War (1899–1902).

But after 1902, what happened next? I didn't know. I'd never looked at South Africa in the 20th Century, but some things that Peter alluded to when talking about the death of Nelson Mandela made me wonder just what the hell was going on over there today.

I got this book, and was soon introduced to it's author, Rian Malan, a white South African who fled the country to avoid his National Service commitment but later returned as a journalist to write about the Apartheid system and it's failings. Admittedly, I found Malan hard to like at first, him being a draft-dodger and a dope-smoker and a supporter of Communism and Socialism, at least in his younger days. I was also puzzled by his oft-stated hatred for white society and his desire to associate and identify almost exclusively with blacks in a country where most blacks wanted nothing to do with him or any other white person. This bias of Malan's colors the book a bit as he seems to blame almost everything but the weather in South Africa on one race of people (white), but his writings also shed light on a lot of the race-based violence and attitudes on both sides of the color and poverty lines that perpetuate it. He does get into the tribal conflicts between various groups of the native majority however, and you come to understand that the violence in this country spreads out in all directions, from white on black, to black on white and black on black. After a while, you wonder if anyone is safe in that country today and why anyone who could leave stays, especially as it seems that no one has any real ideas about fixing the problems. Malan tells some compelling stories that, if nothing else, make you think and wonder about where SA is going and what might have been had things been done differently. And by then end of the book, I see where he's going and why. I may not like his politics but I understand how he got to where he was when he wrote this book.

The book is a bit dated, being written back in the 1980s when the Botha government was still in power, and if the wheels were falling off for South Africa in the 1980s, they're laying on the ground now. Yet the problems still exist as the country continues to produce a lion's share of the gold and diamonds that the rest of the world needs today via transnational corporations that operate in defiance of the socialism advocated by so many in that part of the word today. But even if it is dated, this book does what good books must do--it makes you think and it makes you feel and it makes you ask questions. If nothing else, it's got me wanting to know more and I'm gad that I bought it.

Book Review:

In 1958, broke and in the middle of a custody battle for his four kids by his second wife, Hayden sets sail for Tahiti aboard a schooner which is his last remaining asset. He does so in defiance of the family court judge and in abrogation of his contract with the movie studio. This book narrates that trip, and the narration is interspersed with tales of his life growing up, from a depression-era childhood, moving from place to place with a deadbeat stepfather, to jobs aboard the Gloucester fishing fleet, starting out as a deckhand. Working his way quickly up to mate and then master. In 1938, at the age of 22, he captained a square-rigged sailing ship from Gloucester to Tahiti, a distance of 7700 miles. A ship owner who liked him got him an interview with a movie studio and by 1941, he was in Hollywood, making movies and marrying then-famous actress Madeleine Carroll.

He chucked his movie career to get involved in World War Two, enlisting in the Marines. He was quickly selected for Officer Candidate School and then assigned to the OSS, which sent him to Italy to run sailing ships past the German navy to supply Yugoslav partisans.

Returning from the war, he picked up his movie career, divorced Carroll, and joined the Communist Party, a short-lived venture that would eventually have him testifying before the House UnAmerican Activities Committee. Unhappy with his Hollywood life, he took to the sea again aboard his boat, children in tow.

This is a book about a fascinating man who grew up and lived in fascinating times and did fascinating things. It seemed like he succeeded at everything he set his hand to, but he was never happy and usually walked away right at the peak of things. But he set the story of this part of his life to paper on his return and it's definitely worth the read.

Sometimes, you can accomplish everything and still have nothing. Sterling Hayden shows us how that's possible.

Buy the book here in Amazon

Look what came in the mail today

A copy of Frank Tallman's book where he writes about personally flying 25 vintage aircraft back in the day, from World War One biplanes to World War Two fighters and bombers, most of which he owned at one time or another.

It's going to rain all day, but I'm not going to mind a bit. Cue comfy chair under the reading lamp in 3..2...1...

Book Review: Forever Flying

Last night I just finished re-reading a favorite book of mine: Forever Flying, by the legendary Bob Hoover.

Here's a guy who has definitely "been there and done that" in regards to aviation, and he's met practically everyone who was anyone along the way, from Orville Wright, to Charles Lindbergh to the astronauts who walked on the moon. And he's flown just about every aircraft type imaginable, starting out as a pre-WW2 civilian pilot, then getting into the Army Air Corps during the war, where he spent much of his time as a military test pilot for newly-delivered aircraft before he finally managed to wangle a transfer to a fighter unit. Shot down by the Germans, Bob was a prisoner for a while, until, in the last days before the fall of Germany, he escaped from the POW camp where he was being held, snuck onto a German airfield, stole a fighter plane, and flew it back to freedom.

For most pilots, that'd be enough, but Bob Hoover was just getting started. He stayed in the service and wound up as a test pilot at Wright Patterson Air Force Base, where he evaluated new aircraft types and captured German stuff. There, he made the acquaintance of Chuck Yeager and the two became life-long friends. Hoover might well have been the first pilot to break the sound barrier in the X-1, but after a unauthorized stunt with one of the Air Force's new P-80 jets, he was taken out of final consideration for the role of chief X-1 pilot and Chuck Yeager got it instead. (Hoover flew the chase plane and was slotted as back-up pilot.)

Over the rest of his career, Hoover went from Air Force test pilot, to test pilot for North American aviation during the beginning of the jet age. He flew the F-86 and the then-new F-100, crashing a couple of the letter before that aircraft's quirks were ironed out. He also flew exhibition flights in over 2,000 airshows around the world. Often described by other pilots and one of the greatest pilots in the world, Bob's book is chock full of the kind of stories that exemplify "The right stuff" that he and a few others had back in the day. If you like flying stories or aviation history, this book is a must have for you.

Pearl Harbor, the next days

December, 7th, 1941, was bad enough, with nearly 3,000 Americans dead and our Pacific Fleet in ruins. But it didn't all go away by itself. Come December 8th, the work began at picking up the pieces. Bodies had to be recovered, ships had to be refloated, and the fleet and the base had to be rebuilt, mostly by the people who were there and using the scant equipment that they had left.

A great book on this herculean task is Descent into Darkness, a book written about the salvage operations by Edward Raymer, one of the Navy hardhat divers who actually went down onto and into the sunken hulls of the fleet and worked to make them ready for removal from the bottom of the harbor. His stories are gripping and often tragic, as diving of that sort was still in it's infancy. Mistakes were made and lives were lost, and grisly discoveries were made as the ships' hulls were entered. But the work was done and done in epic time, a testament to the sort of men these Americans were back then. I recommend this book wholeheartedly to anyone who wants to know what it was really like there after the sneak attack by the Japanese.
Get a copy and read it often, and you'll never forget December 7th and the real scope of the damage and loss of that day.

Book Review: American Patriot: The Life and Wars of Colonel Bud Day

After my recent review of Bury Us Upside Down, a book detailing the Misty Fast FAC program in Vietnam, I was motivated to do more reading on the topic, and in regards to one man in particular. I just finished reading American Patriot: The Life and Wars of Colonel Bud Day.

First off, I didn't know that Bud Day was a lawyer. After being discharged from the Marine Corp. following his service in World War Two, he used his GI Bill benefits to go to law school. However, a misdemeanor conviction kept him from being admitted to the Iowa state bar, so when the Korean war came along, he re-enlisted, this time in the Army Reserve. He then took a commission in the then-new Air Force and underwent pilot training, learning to fly the Air Force's new and dangerous jet fighters. In 1955, he earned the distinction of being the first jet pilot to survive a no-chute ejection when he bailed out of his F-84 fighter jet at low altitude and his parachute failed to deploy. Trees broke his fall, and he credited his survival to God wanting to keep him alive for a reason.

In 1967, then a major and contemplating retirement, Day volunteered for an assignment in Vietnam and wound up being ordered to start up a new unit, one that used aging F-100 jet fighters as "Fast FAC" (Forward Air Control) observation and target-spotting aircraft over North Vietnam. The unit's mission was so dangerous that it was volunteer-only and tours were limited to four months. Day personally chose it's call sign, Misty, and flew many of the missions himself. In August of 1967, on one such mission, his aircraft was hit by a Surface-to-Air missile. Both he and his co-pilot bailed out, and his co-pilot was quickly rescued but a badly injured Day was captured by North Vietnamese militia. Five days later, he managed to escape from them and trekked back south, crossing the DMZ and becoming the first American prisoner to escape from North Vietnam. Barefoot and virtually naked after being stripped of his boots and flight suit by his captors, Day evaded capture for nearly two weeks before being recaptured less than a mile from the Marine outpost at Con Thien. he was taken back to the camp that he escaped from and badly tortured before being sent to Hanoi, where he was held in the same cell as wounded Navy pilot and future Senator John McCain.

I learned a lot about McCain's ordeal from Day's story, and while I came to respect him for his service even more than I did before, I'm still at a loss to understand how he changed politically in his later years.

Held for over five years, Day resisted all efforts to get him to disclose information about his unit and other Air Force operations. For this, he was tortured severely enough to cause permanent crippling injuries. The torture wasn't enough to break him, however. he returned to America with his honor intact, and as a leader of the POWs in Hanoi, his resistance inspired other prisoners to stand strong and hold out as well.

Day remained in the Air Force on his return and even regained flying status, checking out in the F-4 Phantom. But an ungrateful Air Force passed him over for promotion to General so he retired a Colonel in 1977.

Now that would have been enough for most people, but Col. Day got admitted to the Florida Bar, began practicing law there, and wound up bringing a lawsuit against the federal government when Bill Clinton kicked our military retirees off of the military medical program and shunted them into Medicare. Day actually won the case at the District Court level only to have the Appellate Court overturn the ruling against the government. But as a result, Congress passed the TRICARE system which basically restored most of our veterans' medical benefits.

Col. Day also helped out the Swift Boat Veterans For Truth when they formed to oppose John Kerry's Presidential campaign in response to his comments and actions during the Vietnam war and his subsequent boasting of his "patriotism" and military service. (Yes, I'm one of the many who think that John Kerry should have been tried for Treason right alongside Jane Fonda...and I'd still be good with that trial starting tomorrow.)

Day is still the most-decorated veteran in Air Force history, being the recipient of the Medal of Honor, the Air Force Cross, The Air Force Distinguished Service Medal, a Silver Star, a Bronze Star with three oak leaf clusters, and the Purple Heart (with three clusters) among others. Col. George "Bud" Day was and still is a giant among men and I do hope that I get the opportunity to shake his hand some day soon.

The book tells his tale very well from childhood to current day, and it also touches on other notables, including Sen. McCain, John Kerry (I've met him and would not piss on him if he was on fire), and H. Ross Perot.

Reading this, I also learned a bit about Ross Perot and his patriotism and willingness to put his own money behind our troops and POWs in particular. The media successfully marginalized him and made him look like a nut to much of America when he ran for president but there was another story that never got told, one where he helped bring about a change in official US policy when it came to our POWs. Like Col. Day, he's done a lot for America's vets and has not, in my opinion, ever been properly thanked.

I could go on and on about Col. Day and this book, but it would still just scratch the surface. Those who have read this book know what I mean, and those who have not...well you need to. Go buy it.

Go on...buy it. Click here.

Bury Us Upside Down

The Misty Pilots and the Secret Battle for the Ho Chi Minh Trail

I saw this book on Amazon some time ago and finally got around to ordering it a couple of weeks ago, intending to add it to my stack of books to be read here in the Lair. There are currently several on that stack already, but when I read this article about it by Anna over at Anna's Clue Tank, well I couldn't wait for it to get here. When it did, it got moved to the head of the stack and I just finished reading it last night.

Wow. It was definitely worth it.

I've always been a fan of the FAC (Forward Air Control) mission in Vietnam. Flying low and slow in old Cessnas looking for the enemy on the ground then bringing all sorts of jet bomber hell to bear on them when you find them (assuming that they don't shoot you down first) seemed like it would have been my cup of tea, and I've got several other books by Raven and Nail FAC pilots who have thoroughly made me feel like I missed my calling by about 35 years. Heck, I even considered buying an old O-2A that once saw service as a Vietnam FAC last year, but smarter people helped talk me out of it (Thanks, Brigid!).

Anyway, this book shines light on the next phase of the FAC program--fast FAC with jets. Now if there's anything cooler than flying a prop plane at treetop height all day, it's doing it with a supersonic jet, in this case, the North American F-100F "Super Sabre". And that's just what the men assigned to the Misty program did. They went out and flew low over North Vietnam every day, looking for signs of enemy material moving down the Ho Chi Minh trail on it's way to being used against our ground troops in the south. When they found it, they called down fighter bombers to destroy it. And when one of the fighter bombers--or a Misty FAC--got hit by enemy fire and the pilot wound up on the ground, the FAC stuck around to direct the rescue efforts because the policy was that no pilot was to be left behind on the ground. Of course the North Vietnamese knew this too and often used such downed pilots as bait to lure more aircraft into their gunsights. The action was fast and furious and deadly on both sides. Misty had 157 pilots flying in the program from 1967 to 1970. Of those, 34 were shot down, and two of them were shot down twice. Three were captured and tortured while imprisoned in Hanoi and seven others were declared missing when they didn't come back and no trace of them could be found. Eventually their status was changed to KIA: killed in action.

And this book goes further than the average war history book, in that it follows thew families of some of those missing pilots long after war's end, giving us a glimpse of what they went through, trying to rebuild their lives without knowing if their husbands and fathers were alive or dead. And the book doesn't spare the Air Force or Lyndon B. Johnson from well-deserved and articulated criticism either.

All in all, it is a great book that's easy to read and hard to put down, and it gives you a real sense of the frustrations felt by these motivated, dedicated pilots when they hung it all out to do their jobs only to have the rules changed to their detriment just when things were starting to work. But they accomplished a lot during their three years, despite missions so risky that they came back with shot-up planes more than any other unit, including ones much larger than theirs. You can't help but cheer for these guys and come away feeling good that we have such men in America.

So go here to the official book page, read more about it, and buy the book.

Heck, it makes me want go out and buy one of those F-100's that I wrote about here last week. Must...resist...

Anyway, here's an F-100F, photographed by me at Selfridge ANGB in Michigan, one of many historic aircraft on my Warbirds of Selfridge Field site. Innit beautiful?