US Marines Urinate on Dead Combatants

OK.  It’s not good.  I get it.  US Marines shouldn’t run around desecrating the corpses of the dead.

That said, I don’t want to hear it.  Almost any time that an enemy combatant is captured in the Muslim world, they’re beaten, kicked and dragged through the streets.  If an enemy combatant is killed and the body is somehow left in possession of the taliban or whomever in the Muslim world, that body is mutilated, dragged through the streets, kicked, beaten, sexually molested, sodomized with clubs and sticks and rifle barrels.  They hang dead bodies from light poles and light them on fire.

The taliban is most guilty of this behavior.

If a Westerner is captured by the taliban, expect to be beaten and then beheaded.

Yet, the Media, Hamid Karzai, the taliban jumped on this event like it was the worst behavior ever witnessed in the history of mankind.  They even issued a statement speaking to the horrifying torturous behavior.  Stating that the US Military is trained to terrorize the world.

Of course, Hamid Karzai the hypocrite has issued a statement condemning the behavior.  He issues a statement anytime someone other than an Afghan does something terrible.  When Afghans do something or the Taliban, who, let’s face it, are mostly Pakistani, Karzai is strangely silent.

Our politicians, led by Hillary Clinton, fell all over themselves lining up to apologize and condemn this behavior “in the most strong terms possible.”

Al Jazeera has been running this story every ten seconds.  It makes me laugh.  Go back and run those pictures of the taliban beheading Gurkha soldiers down in Qandahar.  Run the pictures of Najibullah being hung from a telephone pole in Kabul.  He hung there for weeks.  Run those photos of Muslims sodomizing Qaddafi again. Run the photos of the Blackwater guys being dragged through the streets in Fallujah.

It’s idiotic.

5 or 6 Marines.  They look to be around 20 years old.  They acted foolishly.  There is no doubt.  They pissed on dead bodies.  Dead bodies of taliban who more than likely have done much worse than pissing on a corpse or two.  Let’s not kid ourselves here.  Those dead enemy combatants when they were alive belonged to the most heinous gang of monsters to run across the pages of history.  They’re lucky that a few drops of urine were all that dropped on them.  The taliban are the most disgusting and decrepit group of genocidal criminals in history.  They’re 100 times more monstrous than Stalin or Hitler.  These people are criminals who are not deserving of human dignity.  How concerned were the taliban with human dignity when they were the power in Afghanistan?  How concerned were they with human dignity when they forced women to confine themselves to their homes and starve to death because there was no male family member extant to take them to the market to purchase food.  How concerned were the taliban with human rights when they captured US and ISAF soldiers and desecrated their bodies?  How concerned are the taliban with human dignity when they’re attempting to assissinate Malalai Joya and other dissidents in Afghanistan.

A taliban spokesman speaking about human rights and human dignity is comparable to Hitler talking about respect and love for Jews and Judaism.  It’s farcical.  I’d rather listen to Iran talk about human rights for homosexuals and freedom for woman.  It’s the same thing.

I’m disgusted that we’re talking to the taliban at all.  We should be annihilating them.  The taliban are inhuman.  They’re disgusting, child molesting monsters.  They should be treated exactly as we treated Hitlers minions.  Every last one of them.  Hunt them down and kill all of them.

All of this whining about a squad of Marines pissing on a few talib djinn is fluff.  It’s beside the point.  Punish the Marines for being complete Jackasses and then get on with annihilating the taliban once and for all.

And then, we have this:

The Council on Islamic-American Relations, a prominent Muslim civil rights and advocacy group based in Washington, quickly condemned the video.

“We condemn this apparent desecration of the dead as a violation of our nation’s military regulations and of international laws of war prohibiting such disgusting and immoral actions,” the group wrote in a letter faxed to Defense Secretary Leon Panetta.

Would CAIR give a damn about this incident if these taliban were not Muslims?  I’d say no.   Not at all.  Did CAIR send a fax to the taliban the last time that they desecrated the dead.  I doubt it.  Hypocrites.

The difference between the US/West  and the Taliban could not be more obvious in times like this.  The taliban celebrates this behavior when their people act in this way.  America and Americans condemn it.  America and the West will punish those responsible for behavior like this.  The Taliban would celebrate and reward such behavior.

So, please, Mr. Taliban Spokesman, please.  Shut the hell up.

The Liberty Limited — A Christmas Story

Reprinted from the Philadelphia Daily News.  2005

AND NOW, in time for the holidays, I bring you the best Christmas story you never heard.

It started last Christmas, when Bennett and Vivian Levin were overwhelmed by sadness while listening to radio reports of injured American troops.

“We have to let them know we care,” Vivian told Bennett.

So they organized a trip to bring soldiers from Walter Reed Army Medical Center and Bethesda Naval Hospital to the annual Army-Navy football game in Philly, on Dec. 3.

The cool part is, they created their own train line to do it.

Yes, there are people in this country who actually own real trains. Bennett Levin – native Philly guy, self-made millionaire and irascible former L&I commish – is one of them.

He has three luxury rail cars. Think mahogany paneling, plush seating and white-linen dining areas. He also has two locomotives, which he stores at his Juniata Park train yard.

One car, the elegant Pennsylvania, carried John F. Kennedy to the Army-Navy game in 1961 and ’62. Later, it carried his brother Bobby’s body to D.C. for burial.

“That’s a lot of history for one car,” says Bennett.

He and Vivian wanted to revive a tradition that endured from 1936 to 1975, during which trains carried Army-Navy spectators from around the country directly to the stadium where the annual game is played.

The Levins could think of no better passengers to reinstate the ceremonial ride than the wounded men and women recovering at Walter Reed in D.C. and Bethesda, in Maryland.

“We wanted to give them a first-class experience,” says Bennett. “Gourmet meals on board, private transportation from the train to the stadium, perfect seats – real hero treatment. ”

Through the Army War College Foundation, of which he is a trustee, Bennett met with Walter Reed’s commanding general, who loved the idea.

But Bennett had some ground rules first, all designed to keep the focus on the troops alone:

No press on the trip, lest the soldiers’ day of pampering devolve into a media circus.

No politicians either, because, says Bennett, “I didn’t want some idiot making this trip into a campaign photo op. ”

And no Pentagon suits on board, otherwise the soldiers would be too busy saluting superiors to relax.

The general agreed to the conditions, and Bennett realized he had a problem on his hands.

“I had to actually make this thing happen,” he laughs.

Over the next months, he recruited owners of 15 other sumptuous rail cars from around the country – these people tend to know each other – into lending their vehicles for the day. The name of their temporary train?

The Liberty Limited .

Amtrak volunteered to transport the cars to D.C. – where they’d be coupled together for the round-trip ride to Philly – then back to their owners later.

Conrail offered to service the Liberty while it was in Philly. And SEPTA drivers would bus the disabled soldiers 200 yards from the train to Lincoln Financial Field, for the game. benefactor from the War College ponied up 100 seats to the game – on the 50-yard line – and lunch in a hospitality suite.

And corporate donors filled, for free and without asking for publicity, goodie bags for attendees:

From Woolrich, stadium blankets. From Wal-Mart, digital cameras. From Nikon, field glasses. From GEAR, down jackets.

There was booty not just for the soldiers, but for their guests, too, since each was allowed to bring a friend or family member.

The Marines, though, declined the offer. “They voted not to take guests with them, so they could take more Marines,” says Levin, choking up at the memory.

Bennett’s an emotional guy, so he was worried about how he’d react to meeting the 88 troops and guests at D.C.’s Union Station, where the trip originated. Some GIs were missing limbs. Others were wheelchair-bound or accompanied by medical personnel for the day.

“They made it easy to be with them,” he says. “They were all smiles on the ride to Philly. Not an ounce of self-pity from any of them. They’re so full of life and determination. ”

At the stadium, the troops reveled in the game, recalls Bennett. Not even Army’s lopsided loss to Navy could deflate the group’s rollicking mood.

Afterward, it was back to the train and yet another gourmet meal – heroes get hungry, says Levin – before returning to Walter Reed and Bethesda.

“The day was spectacular,” says Levin. “It was all about these kids. It was awesome to be part of it. ”

The most poignant moment for the Levins was when 11 Marines hugged them goodbye, then sang them the Marine Hymn on the platform at Union Station.

“One of the guys was blind, but he said, ‘I can’t see you, but man, you must be f—ing beautiful!’ ” says Bennett. “I got a lump so big in my throat, I couldn’t even answer him. ”

It’s been three weeks, but the Levins and their guests are still feeling the day’s love.

“My Christmas came early,” says Levin, who is Jewish and who loves the Christmas season. “I can’t describe the feeling in the air. ”

Maybe it was hope.

As one guest wrote in a thank-you note to Bennett and Vivian, “The fond memories generated last Saturday will sustain us all – whatever the future may bring. ”

God bless the Levins.

And bless the troops, every one. *

Article by Ronnie Polaneczky 2005

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An amazing story of generosity.

World War II: Raising the Flag on Mt. Suribachi

“The raising of that flag on Suribachi means a Marine Corps for the next 500 years.”
James Forrestal – Secretary of the Navy – 23rd February 1945″

Among the men who fought on Iwo Jima, uncommon valor was a common virtue.”
Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz – 16th March 1945

Unfortunately, someone somewhere down the years spilled coffee (?) on this photo.  When Grandpa Les pulled out pictures to show us, invariably he would choose this as one of them.  He was proud of his service and this is one of the most famous scenes from the war.

Grandpa Les was understandably proud of the moment and cherished the unique momento of history.  After all, books have been written about this moment in history. This moment has been memorialized with the United State Marine Corps Memorial and the recent movie Flags of Our Fathers.


I haven’t seen my Dad for a while. It’s an odd relationship that I have with my father. If we are together, we can lapse into conversation as if we’d just seen each other yesterday. If I’m not there with him, it’s as if I don’t exist. It’s a bit odd. But I’ve come to accept it. I have always felt like I know my father well. Even when I couldn’t quite figure out how I should react to him. If I see him when I’m home. I see him. If not. It’s just the way it is.It’s just his way. He lives in the present. He deals in the here and now. If you’re not in the moment with him, you don’t exist. It’s a coping mechanism, I believe. It was a long road to come to the realization that it wasn’t personal.

Early in my life, I reacted harshly to my memories of my father and his mistakes.

Resentment. Anger. Hate.

Ultimately, I turned away from those and decided to walk a different path.

Acceptance. Love. Fate.

He is what he is. I have no desire to change the man. And the effort would drive a man insane. An email every now and again would be nice, though. lol

One thing that I remember clearly about my father from childhood is that he had a fascination with the F4 Phantom. Pops was a Jarhead. A Devil Dawg. He served a tour in ‘Nam. Up near Da Nang on China Beach at the foot of Marble Mountain. I’m sure that an F4 or two probably covered his platoon out on patrol. The Huey UH1. The Patton Tank. Things I remember distinctly from childhood. Visiting Fort Knox and Patton Museum. I still smile when I pass the Patton Museum.

I was doing research for a post for my blog. A new post on Vietnam that I’ll put up at a later date. Vietnam always brings my father to mind. So I googled F4 Phantom and found the video below. The Phantoms are all but retired. They’ve been put to rest so to speak. The wars are over. I hope that the same can be said for my father. The name of the F4 is somewhat symbolic of my father. He is a bit of a phantom as well. He has been a shadow in the lives of his children. Existing on the peripheral of our vision. Rarely daring to venture closer. It’s fitting. It’s also a perfect video as the aircraft is taking off. (Lest someone think I’m angry, I’m not. I laughed when I typed that. lol)

In 2006, I visited Da Nang. I went there to go where my father had been during the war. I walked around Marble Mountain. Explored the fields around it. Explored it’s caves and sanctuaries. I sat and marvelled that I was fortunate enough to make such a journey. Fortunate enough to see Vietnam in peace. As it was meant to be. I sat and wondered what it was like for a young man to land on China Beach. Full combat load. Ready to fight. What is it like to move in to the country and attack ancient cities like Hue.

China Beach is a beautiful stretch of white sand. Da Nang is a modern city of 3 Million. Da Nang. It’s a peaceful place now. The Marble Mountain is a tourist attraction. It juts into the sky on the outskirts of Da Nang. A few hundred meters from China Beach and the sea. The top of Marble Mountain was knocked off during the war. Even so, it’s a beautiful place to visit. Tranquil. Perfect for reflection on the miracles, fortune and wonder of my life. Yet, like Vietnam and the Veterans who served there, it is scarred.

I met a couple of Vietnam War vets while I was in Vietnam. One guy probably served with my Dad. He was with the 1st MARDIV in 68-69. Perhaps, he ran into my Pops and they had a beer together. A very possible happenstance.

I found beauty and peace on my trip to Vietnam. The Vietnamese people were extremely welcoming. Nice folks. Especially out in the rural areas. I hope my Dad has found as much beauty. As much peace.

It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.

Kahlil Gibran