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Try passing something the size of a watermelon though a body opening then come back and tell me women are rarely the physical equal of men.

I take it you don't know anything about Ranger school or Infantry combat.

I come from a family who's dad was a Marine pilot in Vietnam. My uncle was a chopper pilot there too. I have two brothers who were in Iraq, one a chopper pilot the other a weapons officer. My mom was a military brat. My family taught me wood craft where at the age of thirteen I was dropped off in the forest with just the basics and had to survive for three days. Later I joined the Marine reserve and went through boot camp. I did everything the guys did. I came home, became an FAA certified pilot flying jets. I now work in Australia flying planes into the outback where any Marine pilot would crap his or her pants landing on the strips I do. Don't tell me I don't know what Ranger or infantry combat is like. I can handle any weapon from a .45 up to a .300mag rifle. I own my own varmint rifle, a 22-250 that I sighted out to 500 yards to knock off prarie dogs at 600 yards. I shoot elk across a 300 yard canyon and help backpack it home. I'll go up against any Marine Recon anytime anywhere anyplace. And I'm only 5'6 and weigh in at 110lbs.

Have a nice day

Regards, Janey

Obviously, if you can give birth to a baby (watermelon), you are physically qualified to be in the first wave hitting the beach in the next Normandy or Iwo Jima.

I swear, snake eater, that most Americans are so brainwashed by TV and movies, that they really believe 120# chick cops (or soldiers) can deftly karate-kick 300# bikers to the ground.

This separation from reality is going to cost us dearly, the next time we get a “real” war off to a bad start, such as Korea 1950. This time, with women in the mix, to add to the panic of mass retreat.

But the PC feminist fantasists will simply exclaim that, “That kind of war is passe. It will never happen like that again. We’ll do it all with drones and lasers.”

We are going to pay the price for accepting fantasy as reality, before the next butcher’s bill must be paid again in blood.