Posted on 07/02/2005 7:53:49 PM PDT by John Robertson
Having been here for some time, JR, you know that it is possible to change the title of the thread. It might even save you from having to insult people. Just a thought.
Hell, I'm through with them right now.
I love you man! (But not in the homo way.)
Seriously, Doug, this is why the MSM is calling for "another O'Connor"--that's code for, squishy moderate who generally will tilt left, so we'll take her. The Republic is at stake.
heheheh. I said I'd quit VOTING...
We were early. When you get there first, you're early.
On point, I raised an arm and signaled the rally point. I pointed at the sky, moved my hand in a circle, and pointed at the ground. Then I slipped off my ruck, and tossed it into the cover of some nearby brush.
Silently, the squad moved on. Each man stashed his gear as he passed the thick cluster of brackens. Not a word was said – we knew our job, and the danger we were in.
Perhaps a half klick deeper into the wood, I came to the valley that we had decided would best suit our purpose. I squatted, half-hidden by a tree, and gave a fast, barely discernible signal.
The squad behind me disappeared, each into the cover of the underbrush, forming a defensive perimeter without need of further direction. From overhead - if it were visible - it would look like a silent, deadly hedgehog. Of course, the reality was that a chopper on top of us wouldn't have seen a thing. Such is the value of experience.
Shortly, the patrol leader came up, and I shifted over, making room for the two of us to watch the valley, unseen. After a couple of moments of observation, he pointed left, downhill, at the bend in the trail. I nodded and rose, with a short glance back. The squad materialized again.
A few, short, moments later, we were in position. The classic L-shaped ambush, with the patrol spread every few yards down the trail, a claymore antipersonnel mine the corner, and the machine-gun crew on the short side of the 'L'.
And then we settled in to wait. Waiting is always part of the game.
The ground was wet - the snow had melted, but it was the season of mud. Nothing new there. I could smell the oil on my weapon - oil and powder, an acrid mix. I settled in to an ideal position, watching the trail. I was between the claymore and the M-60, with the patrol leader beside me. When the time came - if the time came - he would tap my helmet and squeeze off the mine together. The combination would kill as many as possible with the mine, while I killed off the mission target. Then the 60 would open, like god pissing lava. The rest of the patrol would clean up. Just like we had done so many times before.
The wait stretched. I concentrated on my job - I controlled my breathing. The M-16 was pulled back, into my shoulder. My cheek was firmly against the stock. Not only had I braced my rifle, I had found a small bit of log to support it. My sight
picture was perfect - like a Canadian bull, the range target of the day. The weather was damp, but the fog had burned off.
And we waited.
The target came in sight. I watched.
He had a patrol of guards - not very alert, not yet.
I watched. The safety on my rifle startled me, with a barely audible snick, as it moved into the fire position.
I breathed. I waited.
Waiting is the hard part.
My rifle tracked the target - it followed him into the kill zone. I breathed out. A pause.
Before me, just a few yards out, the target died. His head came apart, violently, leaving not much behind. Then I heard the roar of the claymore.
Moments later, it was quiet. We checked the pockets of the dead, looking for intel or maps. Then we simply faded away.
In garrison, later, the patrol leader confronted me. He said, "I did not trigger that ambush. You did."
I never fired - I would know.
Jeez, you sound so reasonable. I sure hope I didn't send something nasty your way. If I did, I hope this apology gets to you before you saddle up.
I have been dodging so much flak since I put this up, I know what it feels like to be the alien spaceship in a video game. If it doesn't cool down, I'm going to have to have this pulled.
Anyway, sorry if I whacked you.
Good GOd, I DIDN'T know you could change the thread! How? Save me! Send in the ammo at once! Instructions, for those of you in Rio Lindo. Thanks.
Patton, what's that from?
An historic battle in the culture war is unfolding before us. I am quite confident that we will prevail. A solid 5-4 court is a long time coming. Let hope Ginsberg leaves soon so we can make it 6-3. When that happens, DemocRATS will be jumping out of buildings.
i really think JP Stevens cant hold out much longer
It is from my own sordid past.
Okay. 7-2 sounds even better.
Sorry for the confusion. I had hoped my comment was simply stated- but I will rephrase here - In one recent post you recant your initial rant. Then just a few posts later, you thank someone for stating that they agree with your initial post (the one you recanted).
I understand that you are not voting for hillary. You have posted and pasted as much to those that commented on your initial post without having read through the thread. But when patton agreed with you, you simply thanked him- not informing him of your new position.
More over, I noted that patton stated he was through with voting. But that is another issue apart from your 180 degree point of view.
LOL. Send a post to the Admin Moderator. If you have a good reason, they may be inclined to change the title.
"Let hope Ginsberg leaves soon so we can make it 6-3. When that happens, DemocRATS will be jumping out of buildings."
And I'll be there to not catch them.
I'll do you one better. I'll be there to encourage them.
Very interesting post. I have to ask- why did you post it to me?
quite evocative. nice piece of writing.
But I think I am pretty consistent on this.
If Bush appoints a pro-abort, anti-gun liberal, I am done with voting. Complete waste of time.
Now we wait, and see what we paid for.
And I'll bed there to spit on 'em, as they crash onto the pavement.
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