Showing posts with label heroes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heroes. Show all posts

Saturday, January 25, 2014

The legend of Lenny Skutnik

The image is in my mind, in the back somewhere. Early in our marriage, I find that my husband has this image firmly in his mind, too, because the Potomac river forms part of the borders between Maryland and Washington, D.C. where he grew up. He knows the story well.

Over the years, I expect to never hear about this amazing feat of heroism again, but no: it surfaces from time to time in unexpected places. It will not die. This man, Lenny Skutnik, represents something we feel that we should be, or know that we are (somewhere inside of us) or hope that we will someday become if the occasion presents itself. Perhaps we are simply frightened that we could fail, if tested. One never really knows until that moment arrives.
And of course Lenny Skutnik. Just before Reagan's 1982 speech Mr. Skutnik, a government worker, saw Air Florida Flight 90 go into the Potomac. As others watched from the banks of the frozen river, Mr. Skutnik threw off his coat, dived in and swam like a golden retriever to save passengers. The night of the speech he was up there in the gallery next to the first lady, and when Reagan pointed him out the chamber exploded. This nice, quiet man who'd gone uncelebrated all his professional life, and then one day circumstances came together and he showed that beneath the bureaucrat's clothing was the beating heart of a hero.
Noonan: The Sleepiness of a Hollow Legend - The State of the Union is a grand tradition—but only if people are listening.

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Judy, the prisoner of war (AMAZING - MUST READ) - UPDATE

Judy was the mascot of several ships in the Pacific, was captured by the Japanese in 1942 and taken to a prison camp, there she met Leading Aircraftsman Frank Williams who shared his small portion of rice with her. Judy raised morale in the POW camp giving alarm when poisonous snakes, crocodiles and even tigers approached.

She was smuggled out in a rice sack when the prisoners were shipped back to Singapore, she never whimper or betrayed her presence to the guards.

The next day the ship was torpedoed. Williams pushed Judy out of a porthole in an attempt to save her life, even though there was a 15 feet drop to the sea. He made his own escape from the ship, not knowing if Judy had survived. Frank Williams was recaptured and was sent to a new camp without news of Judy's survival. However, stories began being told of a dog helping drowning men reach pieces of debris on which to hold.Williams was giving up hope of finding Judy when she arrived in his new camp. "I couldn’t believe my eyes. As I entered the camp, a scraggy dog hit me square between the shoulders and knocked me over! I’d never been so glad to see the old girl. They spent a year in Sumatra.

"She saved my life in so many ways. The greatest way of all was giving me a reason to live. All I had to do was look at her and into those weary, bloodshot eyes and I would ask myself: What would happen to her if I died? I had to keep going. Even if it meant waiting for a miracle.

Once hostilities ceased, Judy was smuggled aboard a troopship heading to Liverpool. She was awarded the Dickin Medal, "the animals' VC", in May 1946. Her citation reads: "For magnificent courage and endurance in Japanese prison camps, which helped to maintain morale among her fellow prisoners and also for saving many lives through her intelligence and watchfulness". At the same time, Frank Williams was awarded the PDSA's White Cross of St. Giles, the highest award possible, for his devotion to Judy.

Frank and Judy spent the year after the war visiting the relatives of PoWs who hadn't survived; Frank remarked that Judy always seemed to give a comforting presence.Judy died at the age of 13. Frank spent two months building a granite and marble memorial in her memory,which included a plaque which told of her life story.


 Photo:PDSA
Please take a moment to visit the memorial pages created when Frank Williams (Senior) passed away in 2003. Besides learning about this gentleman's life, you will learn about the amazing story of his friendship and adventures with Judy, an English Pointer, during and after World War II. Interest in this story of love and courage lead to conversations with movie creators who are hoping to bring the story to film over the next few years. This includes fund raising to provide the capital necessary to bring the story to the screen.
UPDATE: Life as a POW

Friday, February 15, 2013

The American Humane Association’s 2012 Hero Dog of the Year, Gabe, has lost his battle with cancer and passed away on Wednesday.

VIDEO:
HEAVEN WAS NEEDING A HERO

"Dedicated to the life and love of God's sweet creation, Gabe. I wouldn't wish to shed an ounce of the pain your loss has left, if it meant never having the privilege of knowing you, as I did."

Gabe was rescued as a puppy from a Houston shelter just one day before he was going to be euthanized. He deployed to Iraq in 2006 with Sgt. 1st Class Charles “Chuck” Shuck. The two survived 210 combat missions. Last year Gabe retired and started campaigning for the Hero Dog of the Year. The award won thousands of dollars for the nonprofit United States War Dog Association, sending care packages to military dogs and their handlers fighting in Afghanistan. Gabe was 10-years-old when he passed away.

On Tuesday, Gabe stopped eating and Sgt. Shuck knew things weren’t right. He started to have difficulty breathing and was taken to the animal emergency hospital. Gabe had been suffering from hemangiosarcoma, cancer in his liver and spleen. The cancer had spread too far, and on Wednesday Gabe was put to rest after he was surrounded by his favorite toys, snacks and his medals. . .

Gabe’s final days accrued thousands in medical bills. Anyone wishing to donate to help with the costs can send money to Chuck and Gabe’s address at:

9574 Windsor Lake Boulevard

Columbia, SC 29223

All additional funds raised will go to other animals in need.


Sunday, September 09, 2012

HOPELESSNESS is the new HOPE

And failing upward is the new change.

Or how a cult hero became the new Jim Jones on the eternal search for a "socialist paradise" in the quest for national suicide.

Thursday, January 06, 2011

THE LAST SIX SECONDS

On Nov 13, 2010 Lt General John Kelly, USMC gave a speech to the Semper Fi Society of St. Louis, MO. This was 4 days after his son, Lt Robert Kelly, USMC was killed by an IED while on his 3rd Combat tour. During his speech, General Kelly spoke about the dedication and valor of the young men and women who step forward each and every day to protect us. During the speech, he never mentioned the loss of his own son. He closed the speech with the moving account of the last 6 seconds in the lives of 2 young Marines who died with rifles blazing to protect their brother Marines.

"I will leave you with a story about the kind of people they are...about the quality of the steel in their backs...about the kind of dedication they bring to our country while they serve in uniform and forever after as veterans. Two years ago when I was the Commander of all U.S. and Iraqi forces, in fact, the 22nd of April 2008, two Marine infantry battalions, 1/9 "The Walking Dead," and 2/8 were switching out in Ramadi. One battalion in the closing days of their deployment going home very soon, the other just starting its seven-month combat tour.

Two Marines, Corporal Jonathan Yale and Lance Corporal Jordan Haerter, 22 and 20 years old respectively, one from each battalion, were assuming the watch together at the entrance gate of an outpost that contained a makeshift barracks housing 50 Marines. The same broken down ramshackle building was also home to 100 Iraqi police, also my men and our allies in the fight against the terrorists in Ramadi, a city until recently the most dangerous city on earth and owned by Al Qaeda.

Yale was a dirt poor mixed-race kid from Virginia with a wife and daughter, and a mother and sister who lived with him and he supported as well. He did this on a yearly salary of less than $23,000. Haerter, on the other hand, was a middle class white kid from Long Island. They were from two completely different worlds. Had they not joined the Marines they would never have met each other, or understood that multiple America's exist simultaneously depending on one's race, education level, economic status, and where you might have been born. But they were Marines, combat Marines, forged in the same crucible of Marine training, and, because of this bond, they were brothers as close, or closer, than if they were born of the same woman.

The mission orders they received from the sergeant squad leader I am sure went something like: "Okay you two clowns, stand this post and let no unauthorized personnel or vehicles pass." "You clear?" I am also sure Yale and Haerter then rolled their eyes and said in unison something like: "Yes Sergeant," with just enough attitude that made the point without saying the words, "No kidding sweetheart, we know what we're doing." They then relieved two other Marines on watch and took up their post at the entry control point of Joint Security Station Nasser, in the Sophia section of Ramadi, Al Anbar, Iraq.

A few minutes later a large blue truck turned down the alley way--perhaps 60-70 yards in length--and sped its way through the serpentine of concrete jersey walls. The truck stopped just short of where the two were posted and detonated, killing them both catastrophically.

Twenty-four brick masonry houses were damaged or destroyed. A mosque 100 yards away collapsed. The truck's engine came to rest two hundred yards away knocking most of a house down before it stopped. Our explosive experts reckoned the blast was made of 2,000 pounds of explosives. Two died, and because these two young infantrymen didn't have it in their DNA to run from danger, they saved 150 of their Iraqi and American brothers-in-arms.

When I read the situation report about the incident a few hours after it happened I called the regimental commander for details as something about this struck me as different. Marines dying or being seriously wounded is commonplace in combat. We expect Marines regardless of rank or MOS to stand their ground and do their duty, and even die in the process, if that is what the mission takes. But this just seemed different.

The regimental commander had just returned from the site and he agreed, but reported that there were no American witnesses to the event--just Iraqi police. I figured if there was any chance of finding out what actually happened and then to decorate the two Marines to acknowledge their bravery, I'd have to do it as a combat award that requires two eye-witnesses and we figured the bureaucrats back in Washington would never buy Iraqi statements. If it had any chance at all, it had to come under the signature of a general officer.

I traveled to Ramadi the next day and spoke individually to a half-dozen Iraqi police all of whom told the same story. The blue truck turned down into the alley and immediately sped up as it made its way through the serpentine. They all said, "We knew immediately what was going on as soon as the two Marines began firing." The Iraqi police then related that some of them also fired, and then to a man, ran for safety just prior to the explosion. All survived. Many were injured...some seriously.

One of the Iraqis elaborated and with tears welling up said they'd run like any normal man would to save his life. What he didn't know until then, he said, and what he learned that very instant, was that Marines are not normal. Choking past the emotion he said, "Sir, in the name of God no sane man would have stood there and done what they did. No sane man. They saved us all."

What we didn't know at the time, and only learned a couple of days later after I wrote a summary and submitted both Yale and Haerter for posthumous Navy Crosses, was that one of our security cameras, damaged initially in the blast, recorded some of the suicide attack. It happened exactly as the Iraqis had described it. It took exactly six seconds from when the truck entered the alley until it detonated.

You can watch the last six seconds of their young lives. Putting myself in their heads I supposed it took about a second for the two Marines to separately come to the same conclusion about what was going on once the truck came into their view at the far end of the alley. Exactly no time to talk it over, or call the sergeant to ask what they should do. Only enough time to take half an instant and think about what the sergeant told them to do only a few minutes before: "...let no unauthorized personnel or vehicles pass." The two Marines had about five seconds left to live.

It took maybe another two seconds for them to present their weapons, take aim, and open up. By this time the truck was half-way through the barriers and gaining speed the whole time. Here, the recording shows a number of Iraqi police, some of whom had fired their AKs, now scattering like the normal and rational men they were--some running right past the Marines. They had three seconds left to live.

For about two seconds more, the recording shows the Marines' weapons firing non-stop...the truck's windshield exploding into shards of glass as their rounds take it apart and tore in to the body of the son-of-a-bitch who is trying to get past them to kill their brothers--American and Iraqi--bedded down in the barracks totally unaware of the fact that their lives at that moment depended entirely on two Marines standing their ground. If they had been aware, they would have known they were safe...because two Marines stood between them and a crazed suicide bomber.

The recording shows the truck careening to a stop immediately in front of the two Marines. In all of the instantaneous violence Yale and Haerter never hesitated. By all reports and by the recording, they never stepped back. They never even started to step aside. They never even shifted their weight. With their feet spread shoulder width apart, they leaned into the danger, firing as fast as they could work their weapons. They had only one second left to live.

The truck explodes. The camera goes blank. Two young men go to their God. Six seconds. Not enough time to think about their families, their country, their flag, or about their lives or their deaths, but more than enough time for two very brave young men to do their duty...into eternity. That is the kind of people who are on watch all over the world tonight--for you.

We Marines believe that God gave America the greatest gift he could bestow to man while he lived on this earth--freedom. We also believe he gave us another gift nearly as precious--our soldiers, sailors, airmen, Coast Guardsmen, and Marines--to safeguard that gift and guarantee no force on this earth can ever steal it away.

It has been my distinct honor to have been with you here today. Rest assured our America, this experiment in democracy started over two centuries ago, will forever remain the "land of the free and home of the brave" so long as we never run out of tough young Americans who are willing to look beyond their own self-interest and comfortable lives, and go into the darkest and most dangerous places on earth to hunt down, and kill, those who would do us harm.

God Bless America, and....SEMPER FIDELIS!"

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Virtuoso of Joy

While Obama sashays around the world putting America down, this man endured years of torture to avoid doing just that:
For 25 months in such infamous Japanese POW camps as Ofuna, Omori and Naoetsu, Mr. Zamperini was physically tortured and subjected to constant psychological abuse. He was beaten. He was starved. He was denied medical care for maladies that included beriberi and chronic bloody diarrhea. His fellow prisoners—among them Mr. Phillips—were treated almost as badly. But Mr. Zamperini was singled out by a sadistic guard named Mutsuhiro Watanabe, known to prisoners as "the Bird," a handle picked because it had no negative connotations that might bring down his irrational wrath. The Bird intended to make an example of the famous Olympian. He regularly whipped him across the face with a belt buckle and forced him to perform demeaning acts, among them push-ups atop pits of human excrement. The Bird's goal was to force Mr. Zamperini to broadcast anti-American propaganda over the radio.
This story starkly illuminates the difference between the Far Left hate-America crowd and the Tea Party (a symbol of the opposite) and those who gave their all to defend our liberty.

In her new book, the author of 'Seabiscuit' turns to the unimaginable ordeal of an Olympic athlete and WW II hero. Because of her own debilitating illness, they struck a special bond...
The Defiant Ones

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

MY HEROES


Hannah Giles, ACORN Chainsaw Killer