'The true Soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because He loves what is behind him.' -G. K. Chesterton
Showing posts with label navy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label navy. Show all posts

19 April 2014

For Brigid

We have no words just prayers.
Six, Lu and Angus

For your Big Bro.

Poseidon's Law


When the robust and Brass-bound Man commissioned first for sea
His fragile raft, Poseidon laughed, and “Mariner,” said he,
“Behold, a Law immutable I lay on thee and thine,
That never shall ye act or tell a falsehood at my shrine.

“Let Zeus adjust your landward kin whose votive meal and salt
At easy-cheated altars win oblivion for the fault,
But you the unhoodwinked wave shall test – the immediate gulf condemn 
Except ye owe the Fates a jest, be slow to jest with them.

“Ye shall not clear by Greekly speech, nor cozen from your path
The twinkling shoal, the leeward beach, or Hadria’s white-lipped wrath;
Nor tempt with painted cloth for wood my fraud-avenging hosts;
Nor make at all, or all make good, your bulwarks and your boasts.

“Now and henceforward serve unshod, through wet and wakeful shifts,
A present and oppressive God, but take, to aid my gifts 
The wide and windward-opening eye, the large and lavish hand,
The soul that cannot tell a lie – except upon the land!”

In dromond and in catafract – wet, wakeful, windward-eyed 
He kept Poseidon’s Law intact (his ship and freight beside), 
But, once discharged the dromond’s hold, the bireme beached once more,
Splendaciously mendacious rolled the Brass-bound Man ashore….

The thranite now and thalamite are pressures low and high,
And where three hundred blades bite white the twin-propellers ply.
The God that hailed, the keel that sailed, are changed beyond recall,
But the robust and Brass-bound Man he is not changed at all!

From Punt returned, from Phormio’s Fleet, from Javan and Gadire,
He strongly occupies the seat about the tavern fire,
And, moist with much Falernian or smoked Massilian juice,
Revenges there the Brass-bound Man his long-enforced truce!

19 April 2013

Next Gen Artillery

In my Army career I was Artillery, AKA The King Of Battle. Yeah, I so went there. With that in mind you'll understand how much this pains me. The Navy is fielding a Super Gun, the Advanced Gun System.

It fires a 155mm projectile called the LRLAP or Long Range Land Attack Projectile. It utilizes GPS and Inertial Guidance and can send rounds as far as 63 miles. 63 fricking miles. Let me put that in perspective.

Back when I was a Fire Direction Specialist, computing Artillery firing data with plotting charts, Logarithmic tables, slide rules, FADAC (go to the link and click on photo if you want a look at a circa 1960 Army computer) and pencil & paper the newest thing in our inventory was Copperhead and ICM (Improved Conventional Munition including DPICM, APICM and FASCAM). The newest 155 self propelled howitzer, the M109A5 has a range of about 14 miles, 18 with rocket assist rounds. That's pretty good but not quite 63 miles.

No word that I can find on accuracy but considering it's use of accuracy enhancing technology and just how far we've come our smart munitions I'd expect it's probably fairly good, Range Probability Errors notwithstanding.

But still. The Navy has this bad boy? I know they need it, that new DDG1000 is going to be steady kicking ass, but the Navy!? This cannot stand. The Navy cannot have a bigger penis, er gun, (yeah that's what I meant gun) than the Army. My boys in the Redleg community must be aghast, chafing at the bit and planning a midnight visit to a certain naval facility where a certain large boat like object resides to do a late night requisition of a pretty dang cool brand spanking new long range World O' Hurt Delivery Device. Heck guys, give me a call. I've got a trailer.

So if you see a big ol' gun on a redneck trailer being pulled behind a crappy green pickup truck being wildly driven by a disreputable crew of drunken rapscallions and cutthroats wearing cutoff camouflage pants and Budweiser t-shirts please pay it no mind. And if anyone sees Old NFO, ORPO or NavyOne, tell them not to read this post.

You never saw me. I was never here. This post will self destruct in 5...4...3...2...1...

Six

06 January 2012

Jesse Ventura Really Is A Douchebag

What the hell happened to him? UDT to big time wrestler to actor to Governor to Douchebag Supreme.



Really? Ventura said that to a SEAL in a SEAL bar? He shouldn't have said it anywhere to anyone but that may be the stupidest thing I've ever heard of anyone doing. He's lucky The Chief didn't kill him.

Ventura, you're a scumbag. I don't know what the hell happened to you and frankly at this point I really don't care. I'm through with you. As a veteran myself I disavow you and will never again acknowledge you as a brother veteran. As far as I'm concerned you're no better than John Murtha. You are a dishonorable shadow of a man and deserve whatever ill fate befalls you. You have no integrity, no honor and no place among the heroes you slander and attack. Fuck you.

Chief Kyle. Thank you. You may have been at the wake of one of your SEAL brothers but when you silenced that piece of slime you did so in the memory of all those we have lost regardless of branch.
May you get another crack at him.

Six

11 December 2010

Army Navy And Ruminations On Turkey Dogs

Chrisi was wandering around last night, casting her sad puppydog eyes at Lu and I. I'm still not sure what she wanted but I decided she needed a treat. I opened a new package of Turkey dogs and gave her one. She slurped it down (really, did you even taste that!?) and politely inquired if perhaps she could have another. Well, she's 14 now and Lu and I tend to not deny her about anything she wants at this stage so I gave her another. And another. 8 turkey dogs later she had consumed 1 pound of the things and still gave me the sad eyes. I figured a pound was probably enough though she seemed to disagree.

Last night she fell asleep on the floor on my side of the bed. And farted her way through the night. You know those gaseous dog emanations where you can actually see the results? Yeah, hers were a glowing green mist that seemed to hover over the bed, bathing Lu and I in a soft, radioactive blanket of Turkey dog farts. Silent but truly deadly. Who knew turkey Dogs were so dangerous?

But Chrisi's intestinal Krytonite is not why we're here today. Today is the college football game of the year, the only game I truly have any great interest in. It's Army vs Navy and a game I freely admit I love.

These kids will, almost without exception, never play a down of professional football and they know it. There are a few but the number is now so small as to be statistically insignificant. Those kids play for the joy of the game, for the honor of representing their service and for each other. It's still the purest form of amateur athletics left in America. Most of the Seniors will be in combat within the year or even sooner and all will take their commission and go on to serve their country. I hold these young men in great respect and admiration. I will cry when the National Anthem is sung and again at the end of the game when the two teams stand together for the singing of their Academy songs. They are truly worthy representatives of America.

So. With all due respect to my brothers and sisters in the Navy (You know I love you all)

Go Army, Beat Navy!

Game's on at 1230 Mountain Time.

Six

Update: 24-7 Navy at the half. Ouch.
Final: 31-17 Navy. 9 years straight. ORPO will never let me live it down.