Despite tragic news coming out of Ireland this Easter has the catholic church in controversy, once upon a time, the Irish catholic Priest or missionary was a heralded sort that was a rock of the ages. For those of the catholic faith, the message of Easter is clear:  Easter celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ our savior whose purpose was to save us all. To free us from oppression – something SF personnel have often embodied.

One year ago last Easter Sunday, April 12, 2009, U.S. Special Operations Forces, including Navy SEALs staged a dramatic rescue of a US Captain of cargo ship who had been taken hostage by Somali pirates. … His fate was worrisome and  with God and country on his side

On Easter morning 1972, US Marine Captain John Ripley, while under intense enemy fire, blew up a bridge to stop a major invasion. The story of “Ripley at the Bridge” is legendary in the Marine Corps… He in fact called out to Jesus and his mother thoughout his  heroic action that day ( See:http://www.specialforces.com/newsletter/2009_11/ )
The common thread on both operations was to prevent or if you will .– do the impossible .free the oppressed– de oppresso liber. While the modern Special Forces soldier  or Air Force PJ serving so “That Others May Live” are a far cry from Christ’s physical rebirth,  the intent behind their actions is very much part of the spirit which bounds a  soldier to undertake an extreme duty. 

De oppresso Liber — the U.S. Special Forces motto eptiomizes that which Christs  teachings indicate.A US Army traditional phrase in  Latin for “[to free from oppression]” or “[to liberate the oppressed]“.

“Learn to do well:
seek judgment,
relieve the oppressed
judge for the fatherless,
defend the widow.

~Cf. Isaiah 1:17:

The phrase stems from the exploits of World War Two OSS Jedburgh/Sussex and Detachment 101 teams operating behind the lines in Europe and China Burma, India theaters. The unconventional warfare tactics of Colonel Bank differed from the conventional tactics of the rest of the US Army in that they included clandestine support for one side of an existing conflict and that they were subversive to the Nazi and Jap forces in power.

Of  the near faceless, unsung many who served U.S. interests operationally– we find  two of the most eccentric  yet un-heralded characters  whose unsung legends  have a Davy Crockett or Daniel Boone  about them. They were  both Irishmen — Irish catholic missionaries  to be exact .  they were both part of the OSS operation in Burma; one who was to become  known as the ‘fighting father’. His name ? :Father James Stuart.  The other his senior Father  Dennis MacAlindon.  Two of the most  hard charging  Kick-butt- take-names -no nonsense- sacrament-giving – friars combat ever knew… or the Japs ever faced

 .Like something from a Hollywood movie( which should be made about them) these two most colorful fellows and priests, Stuart and MacAlindon were both from County Derry Northern Ireland  and their behind-the-lines combat operations were once actually chronicled by  Irish American born  Naval/ OSS Officer and Hollywood legendary director John Ford,  by a OSS film crew at his disposal to follow them. 

Together, Stuart and Mac Alindon spent three years plunging  into the mythical and treacherous  magical  world of  the OSS Detachments 101,  1942 Burma, under the  stewardship of  a  Colonel named Eifler –  somebody we’ll remember at another time

 Stuart was born in 1909. A devote catholic his entire life,  was an Irish missionary from the Missionary Society of St. Columban( also known as ‘The Columbans’, is a missionary, Catholic religious order, founded in Ireland in 1916 and approved by the Vatican in 1918…) was a crusader and converter for the Burmese Kachin tribesmen, Which he first met in 1936,  nine years before  the war.

When in 1942 Stuart watched the Japs burn down his jungle church and torture his parishioners, he saved the lives of many refugees and he swore vengeance.

Operating  from an isolated tea plantation at Nazira, Assam , Burma  in the heart of [Rudyard] Kiplings  Jungle book country,  Stuart organized the Kachin into a 250,000 man  guerrillaArmy against  the Japs. Tha Kachins were uncanny  jungle fighters,and even with primitive  weapons  they had been wreaking havoc on the Japs. 

OSS Director Donovan decided to support Stuart  and his Kachin unit  with Eifler first (and later Col. Ray Peers )leading them  under  OSS Detachment 101 becoming one of WW II’s most successful clandestine allied outfits. Father Stuarts quasi-mercenary army with Father Stuart and Father MacAlindon at the lead were all about ‘wreaking havoc on the enemy’.

With the OSS operatives and the Kachins at their side Stuart and MacAlindon were the embodiment of that Kipling-esque phrase:

“Good people sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.” ~unknown

Eifler would write of them in his first report to OSS Headquarters on how Stuart was introduced to the Japs:

“…..Now a bit about Father Stuart. When the British retreatedin Northern Burma, Father Stuart decided to stay with his flock…”

“…The fact that he had been unable at that time to convert any of the Kachins to Catholicism had not in any way dampened his enthusiasm for his mission in life. After the British had left and he heard the Japs were advancing, he decided that perhaps a bold move on his part would be the best, so he walked down the highway until he had met the advancing troops. Picking the most imposing figure upon the best horse, and rightly surmising that this was the leader of the Japanese troops, he walked up to him, took the bridle of the horse in his hand and stopped it, and demanded of the rider “Are you Chinese?”

The Japanese officer looked at him, and thoroughly disgusted, turned his head and spat over his shoulder, and said, “Are you English?” The Father mimicking the Jap, looked at him in utter disgust, turned his head, spat over his shoulder, and said nothing. When the question was repeated he denied being English, and stated that he was an Irishman, of which “begorra” he is, but is from Northern Ireland. The Jap got off his horse, drew two half moons on the ground, pointing to one he said, “this is England,” and to the other, “this is Ireland. Where is your home?” Father unhesitatingly placed his finger on the southernmost part of the half moon representing Ireland. The Major was not completely satisfied, and wanted to shoot Father. However, there was a young lieutenant with the troop who was Christian, Father learned afterwards, and he spoke up in Father’s behalf, and the Major withheld his decision at that time, although later on he did order Father shot. The Lieutenant, however, sent warning to Father, and prior to the time that he could be arrested he had escaped into the jungle.”

~ Carl Eifler

  Eifler then carried on about  Mac Alindon

“…Now, in my opinion, Father MacAlindon would have chosen a much better profession had he chosen the profession of a pugilist instead of the priesthood. He surely loves a fight. When it was reported that the Japanese were marching upon the town which he had made his headquarters, he acquired some hand grenades that had been left back by the British, placed a shotgun in each window of his home, slept with an open box of hand grenades alongside of his bed, and succeeded in keeping the natives closely enough united that no Japanese to this day have managed to reach the town of Kajitu, which was his  headquarters. He was afterwards ordered out of the hills and back into the British lines by the British Government…After being indoctrinated to my perverted ideas of warfare, Father MacAlindon returned to the hills, and has since been Major Wilkinson’s assistant, while Father Stuart stayed with me at my headquarters and became and instructor in the arts that I teach.”

 ~ Colonel Carl Eifler

What Eifler did not mention is how Stuart managed to wrangle a  captured  british.38 Webley revolver  and ammo  and pistol training  from the Jap  lieutenant( even though he had already been an experienced  shooter…) under the guise of hunting wild pigs for shooting pigs for the villagers.  Upon escaping them Stuart and  MacAlindon  teamed up and hiding from a pursuing Jap patrol,  they “acquired ‘ grenades and  shotguns and  employed them to ward of their  Jap pursuers  as a diversion to further escape to India into the open arms of Eifler and Detachment 101.

In the true spirit of De Oprresso Liber serving God and Jesus on the side of truth, Father  MacAlindon and Stuart with OSS Det 101  for  the remainder of the war,  liberated  saved ,  feed, educated, taught and clothed the Kachin people;  while also joining them to under go Eiflers “instruction in the arts’ (as he would put it of  guerilla warfare . Stuart acted as the chief interpreter between the head of the Kachin volunteer Army  and  Director OSS ,  General  Donovan as he  visited the operation in the field with Colonel Eifler

Together the Two fathers partook in commando raids, and were said to have killed japs as necessary.  Stuart a rescued American airmen in Northern Burma .  In appreciation of the valuable service he rendered British and American Intelligence, the ‘ Fighting Father,’ as he was afterwards called, was awarded the O.B.E.( Order of the British Empire)  at wars end. Stuart was killed either right before or soon after VJ day.   Father  Mac Alindon’s fate  is unknown..

Since the ‘fighting fathers’ many chaplains and operatives in the SF world  have taken part in many direct action and unconventional warfare tactics and operations  which are all about freeing the oppressed. (The 1950 CIA  para military commando operation to rescue the Dalai Lama from certain CHICOM execution, is just one example.)

In effect elite force operations are often to free more conventional forces from the costly rigors of sustained conflict. Thus, they can often take on a spiritual meaning as they commence, but by their completion, often surprise their participants with  a ‘de facto’ ,  de oppresso liber spirit which propels though them to attain there objectives — as though Christ is there,  with them .

 To those unbelievers reading this –  heathens , and agnostics -. a spirit of a greater good defined by all of Christ’s teaching’s often follows one  into battle…. Something that continues to propel units that live de oppresso liber into their hearts even if they are not officially U.S. Army Special Forces troopers. Thi mindset is  projected via groups like Oath keeprs .org for  example

While  Army SF troopers free the oppressed and Air Force Pararescue men serve so “That Others May Live”   are a far cry from Christ’s physical rebirth,  their operational tempo and drive  is very much part of the spirit which bounds a  soldier to undertake an extreme duty. 

A prayer for them and all U.S. Special Forces of modern day comes to mind this Easter

The Special Forces prayer Written in 1961 for William Pelham “Bill” Yarborough by SF Chaplain John Stevey, the 7th SFG (ABN) Chaplain Exemplifies what goes behind the SF troopers

Special Forces Prayer

__________________

Almighty GOD, Who art the Author of liberty

and the Champion of the oppressed, hear our prayer.

We, the men of Special Forces, acknowledge

our dependence upon Thee in the preservation of human freedom.

Go with us as we seek to defend the defenseless and to free the enslaved.

May we ever remember that our nation, whose motto

is “In God We Trust”, expects that we shall acquit

ourselves with honor, that we may never bring shame

upon our faith, our families, or our fellow men.

Grant us wisdom from Thy mind, courage from Thine

heart, strength from Thine arm, and protection by Thine hand.

It is for Thee that we do battle, and to Thee belongs the victor’s crown.

For Thine is the kingdom, and the power and the glory, forever. AMEN

In sprit it is a prayer that embodies a lot of what Easter is all about –Hope. The real kind of non political balderdash – hope.

This Easter season, whatever your faith, whatever your branch of service or SOF unit, you or a loved one or friend are part of. Please pause and reflect for the blessings that have helped you/them in and out of harms ways and the noble duty you conduct each day. Remember all who served, and those who continue to serve our nation dutifully — the world over and always remember those like the‘ fighting fathers’ and their exploits so you may hand them down to younger generations of warriors.  What ever its problems The catholic clergy may have its short comings but its message is clear and many an elite soldier needs to always remember that without   Christ’s spirit in their actions those  Americans despite what odds from within or externally are tossed our way , will find the mission of special forces an even tougher road to  –free the oppressed  on if we abandon it.

Yes, yes, the 6-foot-6 Parker later played Daniel Boone with the trademark hat. But for the first American generation to grow up with television, the fact was Parker looked and acted more like Davy Crockett than Davy Crockett himself (see drawing).

Parker’s mid-fifties portrayal of the legendary frontier figure (1786-1836) repeated the lessons that contemporary fathers were then attempting to instill in the minds of millions of baby-boomers.

In the days before Bart Simpson became a reverse role model, Davy held that you always said what you meant, meant what you said and went down swinging for what you believed in. Twenty-first century corner-cutting deal-making was not actually an option.

Davy was in the Tennessee militia, rising to the rank of colonel, and then entered the state legislature in 1821 before riding off to Washington like a prehistoric Mr. Smith packing saddlebags full of common sense.

But, turns out, Davy had different talking points than another Tennessean, President Andrew Jackson.

Davy particularly didn’t like Jackson’s Indian Removal Act of 1830, which was basically a land grab that resulted in the forcible eviction of tens of thousands of Indians from Southern and Eastern lands and their removal to the West. Davy didn’t rightly see that as fair, seeing as how the Indians were there first and thought they had a bargain with the U.S. government and all.

For his outspoken opposition to the White House and because Indian rights were not a priority among white voters, Davy was defeated in 1834 and stormed off to Texas to join its Revolution. He died at the Alamo soon after, either swinging an empty Old Betsy at Mexican troops or, according to another version, while enduring later torture.

Eighty-eight years later Fess was born in the then-state of Texas and grew up in San Angelo, only 200 miles from the Alamo. He joined the Marines in World War II to become a pilot but was deemed too tall. He graduated on the G.I.Bill as a history major from the University of Texas and traveled to California to pursue acting.

After his short TV career, Parker disappeared from the entertainment world, becoming a real estate developer in and around Santa Barbara. Later he started his own winery. Thursday afternoon moments after talking with assembled family, he died peacefully in his own home, as if it was scripted.

It was the 84th birthday of his wife of 50 years, Marcella.

It was also 174 years and 13 days after the other Davy died in San Antonio.

(The full Parker obituary is over here.)

– Andrew Malcolm

General ‘Wild Bill’ Donovan director and creator of World War II OSS — whose operational groups , Jedburghs and operational swimmer groups were the fore runners of modern (CIA & USSSCOM operators including…) U.S. Special Forces; SEALs, Marine Corps special operations forces and Coast Guardsmen( yes wise guys read that Coast Guard..) special operations — once wrote a memo to the then ( and first communist POTUS) Franklin Delano Roosevelt.  General Donovan’s promise was to form and lead a national secret service staffed of young officers who were”… calculatingly reckless ..with a disciplined daring …and trained for agressive action “. These men of total discretion General Donovan spoke of, are the modern incarnation of from whom I, and my brethren all hail…. Scoff at my image if you shall…

I am Shock and Aw…I am Hoaah Dave….THIS IS my Blog.
(Oorahs, Hooe-rahs, & Hooyahs) to you one and all!
Hooah, Dave

Currently, Team USA has won 25 medals (seven gold, eight silver, and ten bronze) at the Vancouver 2010 Olympic Winter Games. That total matches the number of medals won at the Torino 2006 Winter Games. With one more medal, the United States will set a record for the most medals won at an Olympic Winter Games not held on US soil. I’m writing with the hope that you could share the news to help support Team USA with the readers of Special Forces Gear Blog.

Anyone who registers on Teamusa.org will have access to the latest info and will receive exclusive updates throughout the rest of the games. You can read more, and get Team USA banners here:
http://teamusanews.org

Spread the word so we can all help support our Team USA athletes bring home the gold!

Throughout American history the idea of “never surrender,” even under seemingly insurmountable odds, became ingrained in our national consciousness. It was borne on the battlefield most certainly, and carried forward in our wars. This idea was based partly on the idea that truth, justice, and God were on our side, and partly because we were an independent, freedom-loving people who detested oppression. If the world put forth dictatorships, fascism, Nazism or any sort of totalitarinism, America would fight to make things right, would not forget her friends, and would never surrender.

Never Surrender!

1781: The Battle of Yorktown was the climax of the American Revolutionary War. The combined forces of General Washington, Rochambeau, de Grasse, and Lafayette all converged on the largest grouping of British troops in America. But our best general, Washington, was struggling. He was fighting a losing cause, many said. The British were the greatest force in the history of the world and they had never been stronger than they were in 1781. How could Washington win? How could this surveyor, this tobacco farmer ever have let himself dream that this undeveloped country called America could consolidate its states and have them be different yet still be the same under this thing they called their Constitution? For over six years Washington had been fighting, freezing, sweating and dying with a rag tag group of mostly disgruntled, complaining “patriots.” While Washington fretted on the eve of Yorktown, the British were living it up in New York City, they occupied America’s best port, and ruled its citizens.

But, Washington, on that still night before the battle, got down on his knee and prayed for guidance and a way for America to become, to survive. If this nation was to be a nation, a nation founded under God, and bound toward being free, then this must be the start. Six years or six hundred, it made no difference. Freedom was the point. A country where freedom and democracy, real democracy, could take hold and blossom. A country that would protect those who were less fortunate and help the weak; a place that would be for those who in the future would need an America. Washington knew on that night before Yorktown that something bigger than him, much bigger than him, was at stake. He knew he would not give up because giving up was giving up on America, democracy, and freedom. No, this would be the fight and these men would be the men. He got up, brought his horse about, and led his men to the breech. And on that day in 1781 the Battle of Yorktown was fought and won by America. And as America that day, so was blessed the world.

GETTYSBURG, PENNSYLVANIA, July 2, 1863

Joshua Chamberlain was shocked and afraid because he knew the battle he was in with his men at Gettysburg was more than a battle in a war, it was the battle for the war and the country and all time. His position in that battle was the fulcrum upon which a part of the fate of America rested.

He was facing the seventh charge of a Confederate enemy whose previous six charges had decimated his Union ranks, had killed, maimed and disheartened. His Maine volunteers could not withstand another, he knew, because they had no ammunition, no heart. All was gone. And spirits were broken—or dangling on that last summer wisp of a miracle. The 20^th Maine had to hold the line, moreover, beyond reason, they had to win this battle…Should Chamberlain bring out the white flag? As quickly as it came he dispelled that sickening thought. They could not surrender. There was no alternative but to find a way. There was not another day to win or die on, this was the day. As sure as the powder still stung his nostrils, as sure as wounded still begged at his leggings, this was forever and this was now. With many a Maine brethren gone, the last healthy men, whose wives and children he knew, looked into his eyes for his truth, and he told them what that truth was: they would charge—charge the enemy and they would do it now. It had never been clearer and it had come by itself but it had come altogether from the woods, hollows, hills and heavens around Gettysberg that this had to be done and they had to be the ones to do it.

“Charge! Charge, Men, Charge! Fix bayonets, fix them!” And they did it, they did it with urgency and assuredness, and they did it quickly and courageously, because they knew too.

Behind Chamberlain, they rushed; rushed into the Confederates stronghold, they brought hearts forward and voices high, from Maine for one and for all, and if anyone believed in angels, they saw them that day—leading their way.

It was no matter they lacked shot, they had bayonets, but more than that, they had the truth. And that was the only power that could win that hill. And his men followed, roaring down the line into the shocked enemy’s lair—and as they drove—wildly fighting in a spirit mixing heaven and hell, they beat back the Confederates, won the battle, and saved the nation.

Texas Rangers, Alamo

1914: World War I—some who won combat in our nation’s great history began their wars by thinking they would refuse to fight in one, even when told to do so. One such man was Alvin York, born in the mountains of eastern Tennessee. Young Alvin was known as a hell-raiser and nuisance child—but then after the death of a friend, he swore off liquor and became devoutly religious. He believed in all Christian rules and lived these virtues, friends attest, as much as any man they met. He would hurt no man, touch no liquor, nor turn a card—on that you can hang your hat.

When notices came from Washington D.C., notifying him to report to his draft board, he ignored them, because he knew he might be asked to kill. Four times he tried to say no, but all four times he was told that he had to sign up anyway. Well, soon Alvin York was drafted, because others around him were going and he thought something had to be done. And, some of his friends had already gone, some had died.

Fast forward to the Battle of the Argonne Forest in France—Alvin, now Sergeant York, had been in a trench with his men for months. Bullets and shells had killed many, but dysentery, disease, and a strange gas that blistered the lungs had killed more. Sergeant York was tired and lost. More lost than he’d ever been. This was a no-mans land, how could hell be worse. Rats, filth, decaying limbs, soulless eyes, where all hope was gone. But they lived, awoke, and pushed forward, inches at a time, trying to break the other before they broke all the way. Why didn’t someone give in? Why didn’t some side give up, Alvin thought? They could all just go home. But then what, then what?

Sergeant York was called on that day to take a patrol and capture German machine gun enplacements. He did as he was told but soon found in the course of this mission that he was alone and staring at an entire German machine gun platoon with just a rifle and a pistol. If there was a time to give up, this was it. It was over. He would lay down his arms and give in. It is easy to surrender, he thought, easy to die, either one would work fine right now, he felt, as sick and as lost as he’d been. Death may even be a better way.

But just as quickly as he thought of that he pushed it out of his mind. Everything he had been in the past was knocked out of the way to make him what he had to be at that very instant—an American with a job to do. Instantly, York “took them on,” by himself. He killed six Germans sent to draw him out, then positioned himself at the end of their trench and began shooting them as they stood in line.” Upon taking these men out, he and his patrol came upon a group of officers who promised that if York wouldn’t shoot, they would tell all the machine guns on the top of the hill to surrender. The officer kept his word and that day, 132 Germans surrendered to York and his crew of seven. An entire company of men were captured by York’s patrol. For this, York was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor. And from there the war was won, and America was moved into a world where they would be looked upon by other nations as something special, but also something to fear. As the love of freedom, equality, opportunity and God was a thing not shared by all.

1944: D-Day, The Rangers of the Cliffs

James Rudder and his men were not in a position to surrender on D-Day. They were only in a position to die. And die, many did. They died when their landing craft capsized and their gear pulled them to the bottom of the ocean. They died when they stepped off the craft and German bullets cut them to pieces. They died when mortar rounds exploded under their feet, and they watched as their own entrails tangled behind in the Czech hedgehogs that littered the beach. But Rudder had a job to do and he was going to do it because there was no turning back. The ocean was behind them and guns in front. They had to go up the cliffs. That was their goal. He had told them, his men, they would succeed. So he had to keep going. Up, up the cliffs, and take out the huge artillery pieces that ruled the Western coast of France. Yet everything he saw this day told him that could not be done. Nothing but withering, ceaseless fire was coming down from on top. How could they ever scale to such a place–to even get close to the guns? Already, half of his 3 companies were dead and he was only 20 feet out of the water up the beach. He buried his face in the sand and in a split second he saw more of his men go down. In a split second he knew who they were, knew how they loved their families, saw those families shedding tears, all because they believed him, how he had told them every second they could succeed. How many lives were changed, he sweated, how many died for this impossibility? But he brought his mind back to the focus that had made him the best of the best, the leader of Rudder’s Rangers, and saw around him his men. And, far from slowing down and dying, far from representing defeat, the few men that he had left were speeding ahead. One his men, and one he thought would not lead, was astonishingly already half up the cliff on a too-short ladder, machine gun in each hand, shooting Germans above his head. And others on the ground on each side, sending grappling hooks skyward—shot out of mortar tubes—had their hooks stick in the cliff tops and these men were climbing the ropes. They were doing the impossible. Germans cut lines but not all, and with intense fire still raining, they pushed further into it. And so did Rudder—hand over hand, knot over knot, past the rock, past the shrapnel, past the smoke; he did not feel, he simply climbed, his nails splintered; muscles tore, blood streamed, his helmet was shot from his head—but he kept going.

Tooth, nail, claw, one by one, the Rangers got over the cliff. They rolled into craters, slid under bunker windows, unstrapped weapons, and started giving back what they’d been getting. And now the heavy tide began to turn. Now the Rangers had room, and all they had ever needed was a little room.

They were stronger on top. Where was that pulled from? Some Rangers said the Rangers who died sent their last breaths into the Rangers who lived so they could fight on and clear the machine gun nests on top. And they did clean them up, and drove on to their objective. They found the big guns, perfectly camoulflaged, and dropped the thermite grenades into each of their gears, melting them, destroying them, shutting them down once and for all. Mission accomplished.

In the electric flashes of that day, Rudder looked out over what was left, out over the Pont du hoc. His men had taken the cliffs and then taken the guns. Who could ever had done such a thing? How did they do it? He had trained them all, hand-picked them all, but he couldn’t figure out for sure what it was that carried them, really carried them, to their success.

Years later he felt he knew why—The American personality. The people who came to American came to American for freedom, for a chance to prove themselves. Just give them a chance and they’ll show you what the can do. And boy oh boy, if you ever try to take the American way of life they love away from them, they have a fighting spirit you can’t stop. That is what it is to be American and an American fighting man. That spirit inherent was what Washington prayed for at Valley Forge, what Pioneers braved 80 below winters for, it is what still flows in the blood of babes just born. A never surrender attitude.

1950: “Bill Barber” and the Frozen Chosin

In 1950, Bill Barber saved the lives of 8,000 Marines because of his five-day holding pattern type stand with 220 men against a force of 1,400 murderous Chinese regulars. It is considered one of the greatest holding actions in Marine Corps history. Barber had been told to fall back and withdraw because everyone thought his men were going to all die, outnumbered 10 to 1 and already battle weary—but Barber risked his command to save the 8,000 coming through the pass.

On the 3 day of the fight, and each day was like walking into a propeller—not only was it one of the coldest winters in Korean history, but the Chinese brought great havoc in the tough defensive position the Marines had to hold. Barber was severely wounded in the leg but had men carry him on a stretcher up and down the line while men fought hand to hand against a determined, pathological enemy. At one time the perimeter broke, but Barbers men shored it up in time and killed all the enemy that had infiltrated in, some by knife, some by literally choking the combatants to death.

After 5 days they were able to fall back and make it out of the Chosin reservoir area.

When their time to leave did come, 82 of Barber’s 220 men were able to walk away. Over half were dead or wounded, and 40 were too frostbitten to walk. They had killed 1,000 enemy troops.

Because they never surrendered, 8,000 Marines lived. That war was also called a draw, and America is paying the price for it today with the evil that still lives on the Korean peninsula.

Ia Drang Valley, Viet Nam, 14^th of November, 1965

Viet Nam was a war that America gave up on and that cost us dearly but it cost Southeast Asians more. After we let go the flood gates, and opened the door to the South, the remnants of Ho Chi Minh, the new crew of Pol Pot, Khymer Rouge, and others, killed millions, we repeat, millions of their own in a domino effect across Viet Nam, Laos, and Cambodia. When deaths were done, skulls filled rooms, flowed onto streets, and became gleaming white hills—and “all for the people.” Never let anyone assail the point of why America fought in that land. The reason was made clear when we folded our tent. That’s when the real horrors began—and they still go on today. Freedom costs. That’s why you can never surrender when you are in the right.

That is not to say our people fought in vain. They that fought then for the American ideal never fought in vain and never fought alone. Beside them was always Patrick Henry, George Washington, and those that built our continent.

If ever a man’s story should be told from that war it should be Ed Freeman, from Hattiesburg, Mississippi. He knew as a boy, ever since he watched soldiers parade past his home, that he would be a military man. And he chose flying helicopters as his goal. Helicopters were a part of Viet Nam like Kilroy was part of WWII. And at no time did men praise the arrival of a HUEY as they did when one landed in a hot LZ to get them out.

Ed Freeman knew why, on November 14^th, 1965. That was during the siege of the Ia Drang Valley, outside Plieku. Here you have the story of an American who made a difference in Viet Nam, at least on that day. 200 American infantrymen were pinned down in the Ia Drang valley by 2 battalions, 2,000 or so, Vietnamese regulars.

They were surrounded. They were getting cut to pieces. They still had part of a perimeter, but no helicopter pilot would ever have been expected to fly into it—because it was suicide. No man on the ground expected them to but Ed Freeman heard the call and he went not once, not twice, but 21 times into the withering fire and mortar rounds to bring food, ammo, medical supplies, and rescue wounded. And he did it all unarmed. 14 hours of flying into the breech, into the teeth, into the bullets that had to have your name but for some reason they did not because the one thing Ed Freeman knew was that no matter how bad he might feel about not going to help it couldn’t be worse than what those American boys were going through on the ground—and by the grace of God or by his fury he would not stop till they didn’t need his help.

One, two, three and four times he went in. THe enemy turned his HUEY into Swiss cheese, bullets zinged through his copter and it sounded like a hive of bees, but he did not falter. He couldn’t. They depended on him. And all he prayed for was that the bullets didn’t hit a hydraulic line—the fuel tank he didn’t care about because he knew he had a self-sealing tank. And every time Ed got back to the base with a man who he’d saved, his team would fix what had been broken with spit and baling wire, gassed him up, he’d chew on some c-rats and he was off again. He never shut her down for over 14 hours.

And when the company commander saw him coming in, Ed Freeman, the only chopper pilot in the world who would do such a thing, he silently thanked God as here came the calvary the 1^st was known for. One lone American, without a weapon, into the hottest LZ in the world on that day, and with him came ammo, food, med supplies and the spirit of everything we were as a country. Into that HUEY they loaded dying men who would soon be alive and home because of one old Son of the South who would never leave a fellow troop to die on the field of battle without doing all he could, and even die himself, to save him.

And there the American’s of the 1^st Cav fought, they fought for America and for freedom and they beat the enemy that day. And before the sun sets on the story of that war, the only crime was not winning that war. The men who really fought it did all they could. What happened after is the stuff of sadness and makes the point of never surrender all the more important.

Born:

War: Somalia

Rank: Sergeant First Class, U.S. Army
(Sniper Team Member)

Location of action: Mogadishu, Somalia

Date of action: October 3, 1993

Medal received from: President Bill Clinton, May 1994 (posthumously)

Official Citation:
Sergeant First Class Shughart, United States Army, distinguished himself by actions above and beyond the call of duty on 3 October 1993, while serving as a Sniper Team Member, United States Army Special Operations Command with Task Force Ranger in Mogadishu, Somalia. Sergeant First Class Shughart provided precision sniper fires from the lead helicopter during an assault on a building and at two helicopter crash sites, while subjected to intense automatic weapons and rocket propelled grenade fires. While providing critical suppressive fires at the second crash site, Sergeant First Class Shughart and his team leader learned that ground forces were not immediately available to secure the site.

Sergeant First Class Shughart and his team leader unhesitatingly volunteered to be inserted to protect the four critically wounded personnel, despite being well aware of the growing number of enemy personnel closing in on the site. After their third request to be inserted, Sergeant First Class Shughart and his team leader received permission to perform this volunteer mission. When debris and enemy ground fires at the site caused them to abort the first attempt, Sergeant First Class Shughart and his team leader were inserted one hundred meters south of the crash site.

Equipped with only his sniper rifle and a pistol, Sergeant First Class Shughart and his team leader, while under intense small arms fire from the enemy, fought their way through a dense maze of shanties and shacks to reach the critically injured crew members. Sergeant First Class Shughart pulled the pilot and the other crew members from the aircraft, establishing a perimeter which placed him and his fellow sniper in the most vulnerable position.

Sergeant First Class Shughart used his long range rifle and side arm to kill an undetermined number of attackers while traveling the perimeter, protecting the downed crew. Sergeant First Class Shughart continued his protective fire until he depleted his ammunition and was fatally wounded. His actions saved the pilot’s life. Sergeant First Class Shughart’s extraordinary heroism and devotion to duty were in keeping with the highest standards of military service and reflect great credit upon him, his unit and the United States Army.

Bio:
Randall Shughart was born in Lincoln, Nebraska where his father was stationed at Lincoln Air Force Base. After his father was discharged, the family moved to Newville, Pennsylvania and Shughart grew up on the family’s dairy farm. A graduate of Big Spring High School in Newville, he had a brother and two sisters, and worked hard tending the herd and farming. He enlisted in the Army while still in school, and went to Ranger school at Ft. Lewis in Washington after basic training. After qualifying for Special Forces, he was transferred to Ft. Bragg, North Carolina before being sent to Somalia.

Of Note:
“Without a doubt, I owe my life to these two men and their bravery,” said Mike Durant, whose life was saved by the actions of SFC Shughart and MSG Gary Gordon. “Those guys came in when they had to know it was a losing battle,” Durant said of the two men. “There was nobody else left to back them up. If they had not come in, I wouldn’t have survived.”

A crackle in the brush. That’s the sound the Afghan herder recalls hearing as he walked alone through a pine forest last month. When he looked up, he saw an American commando, his legs and shoulder bloodied. The commando pointed his gun at the Afghan. “Maybe he thought I was a Taliban,” says the shepherd, Gulab. “I remembered hearing that if an American sticks up his thumb, it is a friendly gesture. So that’s what I did.” To make sure the message was clear, Gulab lifted his tunic to show the American he wasn’t hiding a weapon. He then propped up the wounded commando, and together the pair hobbled down the steep mountain trail to Sabari-Minah, a cluster of adobe-and-wood homes–crossing, for the time being, to safety.

What Gulab did not know is that the commando he encountered was part of a team of Navy SEALs that had been missing for four days after being ambushed by Taliban insurgents during a reconnaissance mission in northeastern Afghanistan. An initial search mission to find the missing SEALs ended in disaster on June 28, when a Chinook helicopter carrying 16 service members was shot down over Kunar province, killing everyone aboard, in one of the deadliest attacks so far on U.S. forces in Afghanistan. Since then, the bodies of two of the missing SEALs have been recovered; another is still classified as missing, though the Taliban claims he was captured and beheaded.

One member of the team did survive. Though the military has not released the name of the SEAL (the U.S. military seldom gives out the names of its special-operations personnel), TIME pieced together his story on the basis of briefings with U.S. military officials in Afghanistan plus an exclusive account of how Gulab, an Afghan herdsman, rescued the wounded commando. What emerges is the tale of a courageous U.S. fighter facing impossible odds in unfamiliar terrain, stalked by the enemy and stripped of everything but his gun and his will to survive. But it is also a story of mercy and fraternity, showing that even in the war-scorched landscape of the Afghan mountains, little shoots of humanity sometimes have a chance to grow.

The clashes in Kunar province have highlighted a worrying surge in violence in Afghanistan, where 15,000 U.S. troops are based. Several months ago, U.S. and Afghan officials claimed the Taliban was a spent force. But the Islamist fighters and their al-Qaeda allies have sprung back with fresh recruits, new weaponry and advanced bombmaking skills passed on to them by terrorists in Iraq, officials in Kabul say.

It was in response to signs of a mounting threat from Taliban fighters that the four-man commando team found itself in the Afghan forests of Kunar province on June 28, maneuvering under low clouds and a drenching rain. The mission, code-named Operation Redwing, was to find and engage the enemy. But in late afternoon, the commandos sent back a one-line message to the “Ark,” a coalition-forces operations room in Kabul. Accompanied by a warning chime, it read, “Troops in contact.” Translation: a fire fight was under way.

That was the SEALs’ last message. The tracking devices each carried went dead, possibly because the men ditched their heavy rucksacks so they could move unburdened, a U.S. official says. Within minutes of receiving the message, eight commandos and eight crewmen of the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment piled into an MH-47 Chinook helicopter and sped out to help the trapped men.

According to accounts provided to U.S. commanders by the surviving Navy SEAL, the commando team had come under fierce attack from a large group of Taliban fighters, who pounded their location with rocket-propelled grenades, mortars and a steady hail of small-arms fire. The clatter of the approaching Chinook may or may not have been audible to the SEALs, but the Taliban surely heard it. A second band of fighters turned and took a bead on the chopper, probably with a rocket- propelled grenade, and in what a U.S. official calls “a pretty lucky shot,” knocked it out of the sky.

Now the four SEALs were truly alone. With night falling and the fog settling, they managed to slip through the Taliban fighters. Crawling and scrambling, they headed toward the high ridges, and the Taliban–who had them outnumbered, probably 5 to 1–gave chase.

U.S. officials say the commandos kept up a running fire fight with their pursuers for more than two miles. The known survivor recalls seeing two of his friends shot. At one point he blacked out, possibly from a mortar round landing close by. When he regained consciousness, two of his teammates–Petty Officer 2nd Class Danny Dietz, 25, and Lieutenant Michael Murphy, 29–were dead, and a third had vanished in the darkness and fog. The surviving SEAL dragged himself at least another mile up into the mountains. It was there he was found four days later by Gulab the shepherd.

After taking the SEAL to Sabari-Minah, Gulab called a village council and explained that the American needed protection from Taliban hunters. It was the SEAL’s good fortune that the villagers were Pashtun, who are honor-bound never to refuse sanctuary to a stranger. By then, said Gulab, “the American understood that we were trying to save him, and he relaxed a bit.”

The Taliban was not so agreeable. That night the fighters sent a message to the villagers: “We want this infidel.” A firm reply from the village chief, Shinah, shot back. “The American is our guest, and we won’t give him up as long as there’s a man or a woman left alive in our village.” As a precaution, the villagers moved the injured commando out of Gulab’s house and hid him in a stable overnight, until it was safe for Gulab to make the six-hour trek down to the U.S. base at Asadabad and report that the SEAL–by then the subject of an intense search–was alive. Sometime later, Gulab went back to his village and then returned to Asadabad with the commando, this time reuniting the wounded and weary SEAL with his jubilant comrades.

The relief at recovering the missing commando has been tempered by the heavy loss of American life–and the knowledge that more fighting lies ahead. The Taliban’s offensive shows no sign of waning and is apparently aimed at sabotaging September’s parliamentary elections. U.S. Colonel Don McGraw, director of operations of the Combined Forces Command in Kabul, says that in the chaos of Afghanistan today, it is hard to distinguish among what is the work of the Taliban, drug traffickers and criminal gangs.

It is a testament to the persistent insecurity in Afghanistan that Gulab now fears that his act of compassion may mean his death warrant. After returning the SEAL, he went back to grab his family and flee before the Taliban would come round seeking revenge. In the mountains of Kunar, fear is rising again.

For 62 months, Rowe battled dysentery, beri-beri, fungal diseases, and grueling psychological and physical torment. Each day he faced the undermining realization that he might be executed, or worse, kept alive, but never released. His home was a wooden cage, three feet by four feet by six feet in dimension. His bed was a sleeping mat. In spite of all this, Rowe was a survivor. From the start of his capture, he began looking for ways to resist his captors while he could make plans for his escape. Since he was the S2 or Intelligence Officer for his unit, he had access to all sorts of classified and sensitive information including camp defenses, mine field locations, names of friendlies and unit strengths and locations. All information the viet cong would love to know.

Rowe concocted a cover story that he was a “draftee” engineer who had the mundane job of building schools and other civil affairs projects. As he was not wearing his West Point ring (he had left it home with his parents when he came to Vietnam), Nick claimed he went to a small liberal college and really didn’t know much about the military. The Viet Cong unsure whether to believe Rowe used torture to see if he would break and change his story. As a last resort his interrogators gave him some basic engineering problems which they felt would either validate Rowe’s story or prove that he was lying. Fortunately, as engineering courses were mandatory at West Point, Rowe was able to fool his captors.

Rowe’s cover story was eventually broken but not through any fault of his own. All his efforts were destroyed when an Anti-War Activist Group came to North Vietnam. As part of their visit to North Vietnam, the group asked to see some of the American POW’s so they could tell the American people that POWs were being treated fairly by the North Vietnamese government. Rowe’s name was on the list that they gave their hosts along with the information that he was the intelligence officer for the Special Forces Advisor Unit.

Rowe’s captors were furious that Rowe had fooled them all this time. Even worse was they knew that the valuable information he had at the time of his capture was dated and virtually worthless to them now. Rowe’s captors beat him for hours then stripped him and staked him out naked in a swamp. Now if you have ever had a mosquito bite you you know how much it hurts and itches. That night Rowe’s body was covered with a blanket of mosquitoes that feasted on him for two days. Despite his captors best efforts to torture him, Rowe still would not break to their will or give them the old dated information.

Rowe made several escape attempts, once with another injured POW. They were being pursued by the Viet Cong when the other POW faced the realization that he could not go on and that he was slowing Rowe down and increasing the chance of both men being captured again. He urged Rowe to go on without him. Rowe began doing so until he heard the Viet Cong capture his friend. They began yelling that unless he surrendered to them, they would kill his friend. Although Rowe could have escaped he surrendered to save his friend.

Rowe was scheduled to be executed in late December 1968. His captors had had enough of him – his refusal to accept the communist ideology and his continued escape attempts. While away from the camp in the U Minh forest, Rowe took advantage of a sudden flight of American helicopters. He struck down his guards, and ran into a clearing where the helicopters noticed him and rescued him, still clad in black prisoner pajamas. Among his surprises when he returned to civilization was that he had been promoted to Major during his five years of captivity.

Stanley Sandler says in Cease Resistance: It’s Good for You: A History of U.S. Army Combat Psychological Operations, 1999: “Just before his escape Rowe had noticed that his captors were confused and bewildered because their old sanctuaries were being invaded by what had been dismissed by their cadres as ‘weak’ United States and Government of Vietnam forces. Many of them would have liked to give up the struggle but were afraid of being killed while trying to defect. A leaflet was quickly printed up with a message from Lt. Rowe reassuring his former captors that they would be welcomed and treated decently.”

Eighteen hours after his escape, 100,000 copies of a leaflet in Rowe’s own handwriting were dropped over the U Mihn Combat Zone.

In 1971 Nick published Five Years to Freedom, in which he recounted his ordeal as a Viet Cong prisoner, his eventual escape, and his return home. The book was the result of the diary he wrote while prisoner, writing it in German, Spanish, Chinese, and his own special code in order to deceive his captors. He also wrote Southeast Asia Survival Journal for the United States Department of the Air Force, published in 1971. Upon his return home to McAllen he was presented with lifetime memberships in the American Legion and the Veterans of Foreign Wars.

In 1974 he made the decision to leave the service. He continue to write co-authoring The Washington Connection with Robin Moore, which was published by Conder Press in 1977, and in the same year Little, Brown and Company published his first novel, The Judas Squad.