The Curtiss P-40, strong, rugged, with a punch like a train wreck from it's battery of six Browning 50cal. machine guns. Amored, well protected, it was slower in a climb, not as nimble as it's enemies, but in the hands of skilled pilots.......It became a legend.

It didn't have the familar tiger paint scheme that day at Pearl, just standard USAAf olive with the early white star markings on the wings. I missed posting on Pearl on the 7th, no excuses, I simply failed to do so, family obligations cut short my time online. But I will not let it pass completely without comment.

So many accounts of that day have been written, all moving all important. But this one story always stuck with me over the others. Those two young pilots accomplished a miracle that day. They took on the second wave of the Japanese Imperial Fleet by themselves, and were credited with seven kills. They had no chance, were almost certainly as doomed as the dozens of pilots killed running to the scramble, cut down before they could get in the air to even the odds.

I can imagine the rage, the flood of boiling hot blood surging in their veins as they clawed their way into that morning sky through the smoke and flames. Roaring past the burning wrecks of their brothers who hadn't made it off the field. Who had been not killed in war, but murdered in the end of a false peace. Vengence, certainly, but also the frantic need to drive off the Zero's and Vals murdering their fellows, savaging the Navy. The urgency of fighting back.

Not all those sonsabitchs were going home.

Imagine too the stark Horror of Battleship row, all the terrible losses. The men were torn and ravaged, fighting on, desparate to get away from the docks, to fight their ships in the open seas. The never ending rain of bombs and bullets, the whine of aircraft engines. We were loosing, so many dead, so little to fight back with.

Fighting their way to the anchorage at Pearl, 2nd Lt.'s Ken Taylor and George Welch could see the smoke and fires. See the sinking ships. Out numbered a hundred to one they leaped to engage the bombers and Zero's. Think of it, a hundred to one and they dove in regardless of the very real certainty of their own deaths. Two planes could not end the attack, couldn't save the Fleet, but they did save the men who would have died at the bombs of the Vals they shot down.

They saved something else as well.

They saved the heart of a nation. Amid the disaster of Pearl Harbour, they fought back, fiercely pressing in, ripping one plane after another from the skies. They were defiance, a shining, glowing example to the survivors as they pulled eachother from the burning oil covered waters. The sound of an Allision engine they say was unique, deeper, stronger than the lighter ones of the Japanese. As they bore in, those sailors looked up, their ears telling them something was different. Imagine one more time, the explosion of hope, the radiance of strength they recieved as the Warhawks blasted through the smoke to pour hundreds of rounds into their tormenters. They cheered from the decks of burning vessels at the David and Goliath match they saw.

Courage is something that inspires, that gives hope.

The aftermath of Pearl was hard on everyone in our nation. The heroes of that day were so many, so very many, and we needed them all. The victory in 45 was a very long way off. We won, because of who we are, who they were. We aren't so different. Flight 93 proved that. We fight back, no matter the odds, the cost.

We can't not pursue victory in a battle of survival. The example of that day alone should give our enemies pause. We know pain and sacrifice, we know loss.

We also know courage, devotion. We know heroes.

The next time someone tells you that you live in Amerikkka, show them this.

Imprisoned since 1999 for his involvement in student demonstrations against government sanctioned attacks on Tehran University students, Batebi has been serving the forth year of a 15 year prison sentence. Convicted on spurious charges of �counter-revolutionary activity� that were leveled against him after his picture appeared on the cover of The Economist, Batebi was initially sentenced to death. While Batebi�s death sentence was overturned as a result of widespread national and worldwide outrage over his case, he was not spared from torture and the horrible conditions in Iran�s notorious Evin Prison.

Now how exactly are our protesters repressed again? Speak up, there's screaming in the background...................................

Do the right thing and sign, I'm number 675 on the list. It probably won't do any good, but it certainly can't do any harm.They need our help.

I'm more than happy with the new header and in keeping with the spirit of it I offer this.

Strength and Honor.

A warrior is born the moment a child looks on injustice and knows what it is. A warrior is born when the fire in your blood cries out for justice, when you will not sit back and just let it go on. A warrior is born, and things will never be easy ever again.

Some of us were born to it, others came by choice but the result is the same. Once you set on this path there is no turning back, no backing down. Wether you have ever worn the uniform or not a warrior is what he is by virtue of his heart. Strength of heart, of spirit marks you, setting you apart from other men. You will fight for what you believe and never forsake it. You will pay the price, and not complain, you will bear the scars and not hide them. You ignore the scorn of fools and cowards because you have nothing left to prove. You wear the badge of honor in your eyes, and all other men of Honor will see it and know. Lesser men will fear. You will fight for justice as you see it, and all others will benefit. You will be praised when needed, and forgotten when not.

But you, we, will always be there.

Being a warrior isn't a profession, it's a way of life. A way of approaching adversity and planning it's defeat. We possess many more warriors than most can imagine, from the trembling child holding his mothers hand to comfort her tears to the wizened old man broken in body but not in spirit, walking because he's too stubborn to fail.

Of all the things men can choose to be, I choose this, and I'm not looking back.

Strength and Honor.

Update, a correction as pointed out by Emily. Many thanks.

Bless all who brave death in fire to save us.

For you AnalogKid, from American RealPolitik. I remember your words from before.

My mother worked for the Washington Dept. of Natural Resources for 20 some odd years. As soon as I was old enough, I convinced her that I would be ok working on a fire line and she got me signed up. I worked two fire seasons before almost getting s'mored and my mom begged me to not re-up.

If you pray, please do for the brave men and women on the line and in the aircraft. And also for rain.

There's not much for me to say now, bravery has been revealed, sacrifices made, destiny..........

All that's left to us is to mourn the lost, and help to heal the injured.

Thanks AK, for your time on the line.

I used to read history a lot, WWII mostly. The one piece of that history that always stuck with me was the story of Taffy III in the action off Samar during the battle of Leyte Gulf. Often today we are criticised for being "too strong" if such a thing were possible. That day in Oct. of 44 we were the weak underdog, badly out gunned, out numbered, with the enemy bearing down with no way to escape.

We won.

The Captain and crew of a gallant ship were part of the reason. The Captains and crews of Taffy III were the entire reason. Heroism isn't something that can be measured, or rationed. It's an intangible, one of the mysteries that define humanity. Greatfully, we have never lacked for men like this when we need them.

We shouldn't forget them either,

JOHNSTON outfought the entire Japanese destroyer squadron, concentrating on the lead ship until the enemy quit cold, then concentrated on the second destroyer until the remaining enemy units broke off to get out of effective gun range before launching torpedoes, all of which went wild. JOHNSTON took a hit which knocked out one forward gun, damaged another, and her bridge was rendered untenable by fires and explosions resulting from a hit in her 40mm ready ammunition locker. Commander Evans shifted his command to JOHNSTON's fantail, yelling orders through an open hatch to men turning her rudder by hand. Still the destroyer battled desperately to keep the Japanese destroyers and cruisers from reaching the five surviving American carriers. "We were now in a position where all the gallantry and guts in the world couldn't save us, but we figured that help for the carriers must be on the way, and every minute's delay might count...."

"By 0930 we were going dead in the water; even the Japanese couldn't miss us. They made a sort of running semi-circle around our ship, shooting at us like a bunch of Indians attacking a prairie schooner. Our lone engine and fire room was knocked out; we lost all power, and even the indomitable skipper knew we were finished. At 0945 he gave the saddest order a captain can give: 'Abandon Ship.'..."

This website is dedicated to the battle, to the men, to the memory. In harsh times, it helps to remember that there was a time when our survival wasn't certain. When our losses were far greater. When we found the strength to hold the line.

We prevailed then, we will again.

True

A True American
Wounded Soldier Becomes a Citizen After Giving a Lesson in Courage

His sacrifice and yesterday's simple act of patriotism were so powerfully symbolic, with the nation still at war in Iraq, that his citizenship ceremony drew two members of President Bush's Cabinet: Homeland Defense Secretary Tom Ridge and Veterans Affairs Secretary Anthony J. Principi, both Vietnam veterans.

Welcome home Hilario, we're proud to have you among us. You are American now, as your children will be. They will be as proud of you as we are. I served with a S. Korean E-5, a Jamaican airman, and a couple of Philipino's. Their love of this country was an inspiration.

Again, welcome my friend.

This may be the most moving memorial of all, a simple bed of flowers.

American-Iranian September
"Things will Never be the Same Here" was the title of an article I read in the following weeks of 9/11. This was the best way one could describe not only America but the whole world on the days to come.

The 2nd anniversary of September 11th Tragedy and the Iranian Nation
"America, America.... Condolences, Condolences!" and "Death to Taliban, whether in Kabul or Tehran" they chanted while holding their candle lights despite the brutal attacks of Hezbollahi thugs!!

They weep for us when they suffer so much themselves, that kind of humanity deserves our thanks, and our promise to help. They mourn for us, when it's expensive, when executions are on the rise, and the Mullahs become more desparate. The virtue shown here is unselfish, and uncommon.

We have many obligations now, to ourselves and to our friends and dependents. It seems very hard to attempt to take on more when the burden is already heavy. But I saw that picture, and thought that maybe we can save one more. Afghanistan will be mending a long time, Iraq is still in surgery, but to pull one more people to the light, isn't that worth a little more of our time and treasure? The Iranians have started the journey on their own, maybe an outstretched hand is the boost they need to finish.

I hope we can help, they've earned it.