Posted on 08/13/2014 4:16:59 PM PDT by nickcarraway
In northern Iraq the threat posed by ISIL (Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant) has led to over 2,000 Kurdish women volunteering for combat duty. Another 5,000 had volunteered for support work in the combat zone. This is nothing new for the Kurds, or many other peoples around the globe.
Throughout history women have often served in irregular combat organizations. In modern times, with the arrival of lightweight firearms, more women became capable of handling direct combat. This is because before modern firearms were developed in the 19th century lots of combat was dependent on muscle, which men have a lot more of.
Despite this inability to compete with men in the muscle department women often served as archers, using the small, shorter range short bow that did not require the big muscle of longer range bows. These women became accurate archers because in many cultures women used short bows to hunt small game near their camp or village. Men used more powerful bows for big game. But the short bow could kill a man, especially if he were not wearing a lot of armor. A skilled female archer could regularly get face shots, as they were accustomed to hitting small targets like rabbits and birds.
Despite being Sunni Moslem, the Kurds do not have a lot of restrictions on women. In fact, a lot of the clothing and behavior restrictions associated with Moslem women are, as many Islamic scholars will point out, based on cultural customs not religious scripture. In the Middle East for example, women in many ethnic groups, and of all faiths (including Christians) have ancient customs about women being well covered when in public and generally staying at home. The Kurds have little of that cultural baggage and they do have a tradition of women going to war, especially in self-defense militias. This was the case in Israel during the 1948 war and their Arab opponents were enraged (and humiliated) when they found that the “soldiers” who had just defeated in one encounter or another were female. ISIL will be similarly unamused when they get the same treatment from Kurdish women.
Russia, and other countries, discovered during World War II that women, in general, made better snipers. But that was something any student of archery through the ages could have told you. Since World War II warfare has come to depend more on brains more than muscle. This has made women competitive at more jobs in regular armies.
The Nags won’t report on this because they don’t like Women using guns.
They see guns as a symbol of the “Patriarchy” instead of what it actually is and that is a tool of liberation in the hand of the peaceful citizens.
NAG gang wont support these women they are not right color or right religion or belief systems
Are you talking about the NAGs in the media or the NAGs on FR?
Hey ladies, either kill ISIL or the ones you miss will be raping you for life. En masse. As you are enslaved.
Motivated yet?
“This is because before modern firearms were developed in the 19th century lots of combat was dependent on muscle, which men have a lot more of.”
Ick.
Very good, take that Shrillery
Peshmerga: Women Warriors of Kurdistan
Apparently, Kurdish women have a long history in combat there.
I been listen to KABC Brian Suits on dark secret place
He went few weeks ago about Kurdish Women they are bad*** real true Queen miltants
Are you talking about the NAGs in the media or the NAGs on FR?
Media NAGs, (National Association of Gals) ie. NOW
My son was in an ROTC Special Force unit in high school. I had the impression that most members had strong mothers. I Spain they have a testing of the cows when they breed fighting bulls.
“Put down the English language. Step away from the keyboard.”
The Young British Soldier
When the 'arf-made recruity goes out to the East
'E acts like a babe an' 'e drinks like a beast,
An' 'e wonders because 'e is frequent deceased
Ere 'e's fit for to serve as a soldier.
Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
So-oldier _of_ the Queen!
Now all you recruities what's drafted to-day,
You shut up your rag-box an' 'ark to my lay,
An' I'll sing you a soldier as far as I may:
A soldier what's fit for a soldier.
Fit, fit, fit for a soldier . . .
First mind you steer clear o' the grog-sellers' huts,
For they sell you Fixed Bay'nets that rots out your guts --
Ay, drink that 'ud eat the live steel from your butts --
An' it's bad for the young British soldier.
Bad, bad, bad for the soldier . . .
When the cholera comes -- as it will past a doubt --
Keep out of the wet and don't go on the shout,
For the sickness gets in as the liquor dies out,
A' it crumples the young British soldier.
Crum-, crum-, crumples the soldier . . .
But the worst o' your foes is the sun over'ead:
You must wear your 'elmet for all that is said:
If 'e finds you uncovered 'e'll knock you down dead,
An' you'll die like a fool of a soldier.
Fool, fool, fool of a soldier . . .
If you're cast for fatigue by a sergeant unkind,
Don't grouse like a woman nor crack on nor blind;
Be handy and civil, and then you will find
That it's beer for the young British soldier.
Beer, beer, beer for the soldier . . .
Now, if you must marry, take care she is old --
A troop-sergeant's widow's the nicest I'm told,
For beauty won't help if your rations is cold,
Nor love ain't enough for a soldier.
'Nough, 'nough, 'nough for a soldier . . .
If the wife should go wrong with a comrade, be loath
To shoot when you catch 'em -- you'll swing, on my oath! --
Make 'im take 'er and keep 'er: that's Hell for them both,
An' you're shut o' the curse of a soldier.
Curse, curse, curse of a soldier . . .
When first under fire an' you're wishful to duck,
Don't look nor take 'eed at the man that is struck,
Be thankful you're livin', and trust to your luck
And march to your front like a soldier.
Front, front, front like a soldier . . .
When 'arf of your bullets fly wide in the ditch,
Don't call your Martini a cross-eyed old bitch;
She's human as you are -- you treat her as sich,
An' she'll fight for the young British soldier.
Fight, fight, fight for the soldier . . .
When shakin' their bustles like ladies so fine,
The guns o' the enemy wheel into line,
Shoot low at the limbers an' don't mind the shine,
For noise never startles the soldier.
Start-, start-, startles the soldier . . .
If your officer's dead and the sergeants look white,
Remember it's ruin to run from a fight:
So take open order, lie down, and sit tight,
And wait for supports like a soldier.
Wait, wait, wait like a soldier . . .
When you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's plains,
And the women come out to cut up what remains,
Jest roll to your rifle and blow out your brains
An' go to your Gawd like a soldier.
Go, go, go like a soldier,
Go, go, go like a soldier,
Go, go, go like a soldier,
So-oldier _of_ the Queen!
-- Rudyard Kipling
The Grave of the Hundred Head
There’s a widow in sleepy Chester
Who weeps for her only son;
There’s a grave on the Pabeng River,
A grave that the Burmans shun;
And there’s Subadar Prag Tewarri
Who tells how the work was done.
A Snider squibbed in the jungle,
Somebody laughed and fled,
And the men of the First Shikaris
Picked up their Subaltern dead,
With a big blue mark in his forehead
And the back blown out of his head.
Subadar Prag Tewarri,
Jemadar Hira Lal,
Took command of the party,
Twenty rifles in all,
Marched them down to the river
As the day was beginning to fall.
They buried the boy by the river,
A blanket over his face—
They wept for their dead Lieutenant,
The men of an alien race—
They made a samadh in his honor,
A mark for his resting-place.
For they swore by the Holy Water,
They swore by the salt they ate,
That the soul of Lieutenant Eshmitt Sahib
Should go to his God in state,
With fifty file of Burmans
To open him Heaven’s gate.
The men of the First Shikaris
Marched till the break of day,
Till they came to the rebel village,
The village of Pabengmay—
A jingal covered the clearing,
Calthrops hampered the way.
Subadar Prag Tewarri,
Bidding them load with ball,
Halted a dozen rifles
Under the village wall;
Sent out a flanking-party
With Jemadar Hira Lal.
The men of the First Shikaris
Shouted and smote and slew,
Turning the grinning jingal
On to the howling crew.
The Jemadar’s flanking-party
Butchered the folk who flew.
Long was the morn of slaughter,
Long was the list of slain,
Five score heads were taken,
Five score heads and twain;
And the men of the First Shikaris
Went back to their grave again,
Each man bearing a basket
Red as his palms that day,
Red as the blazing village -
The village of Pabengmay,
And the “drip-drip-drip” from the baskets
Reddened the grass by the way.
They made a pile of their trophies
High as a tall man’s chin,
Head upon head distorted,
Set in a sightless grin,
Anger and pain and terror
Stamped on the smoke-scorched skin.
Subadar Prag Tewarri
Put the head of the Boh
On the top of the mound of triumph,
The head of his son below—
With the sword and the peacock-banner
That the world might behold and know.
Thus the samadh was perfect,
Thus was the lesson plain
Of the wrath of the First Shikaris -
The price of a white man slain;
And the men of the First Shikaris
Went back into camp again.
Then a silence came to the river,
A hush fell over the shore,
And Bohs that were brave departed,
And Sniders squibbed no more;
For the Burmans said
That a white man’s head
Must be paid for with heads five-score.
There’s a widow in sleepy Chester
Who weeps for her only son;
There’s a grave on the Pabeng River,
A grave that the Burmans shun;
And there’s Subadar Prag Tewarri
Who tells how the work was done.
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