One day to go until TGIF….yeehaaa.

Let’s have a quick look at some statistical data and other information I’ve uncovered. This should allow you to make plans for one or two of the most likely problems you might encounter.

1       50% of attacks are within one mile of the victims’ home – if not actually in it!

2       Most encounters will occur in low light conditions or complete dark.

3       A – Most burglars are opportunists. This is in complete contrast to the glamorous movie style brainiac that is normally presented on film. The thief who can circumvent security systems, cameras, watch dogs, trembler alarms, motions sensors, and observant home owners is mostly a myth. Most just happen to wander past your home and see the garage door open and figure, “I’ll give it a shot.” Or brazenly walk up to the front door, or back door, and try it…voila.

B – He is also more likely to be a repeat offender; if not for breaking and entering, then for a full spectrum of other crimes all the way up to rape and murder.

4       Home invasions are on the rise. Worse yet, some are being perpetrated by well organized gangs, yes, gangs, and by the time you have reacted to the door being kicked in, half a dozen strange men are in your house and have control of your family.

I know some of you are thinking that only happens in rough areas – right? Well, consider this for a moment:

If you, as a gang member, were going to risk being shot and killed by an armed and angry home owner, wouldn’t you consider the, “risk versus reward” philosophy? Jail time for a cheap “low” reward house will be the same as an expensive, “high” reward establishment.

It might be a bit scary to think about, but ignorance in this case is NOT bliss! You aren’t safer just because you choose not to think about it – you just make your reaction to an event such as this a whole lot slower, should it happen.

I just want you to consider the possibility and plan accordingly. Do not freak out. Living in fear doesn’t help – in fact it hinders.

Instead, aim to live in a moderate full-time state of awareness, or “in the yellow” as a close friend of mine, Monica, likes to say (this is based off Jeff Coopers color code system discussed in an earlier Blog and taught at my seminars).

Consider the possibility it could happen, although the chances are it won’t, and then if it does, you have a plan for staying in one piece. You may only need to implement your plan once in your lifetime – but if you do…boy will you be glad you had one to implement!

http://www.wral.com/news/local/story/7262824/- check out this story as an eye opener….

The list of ways criminals would make you a victim is endless, or could be, and a little research on your part can pay dividends in shortening the list.

Talk to your local Police Departments – whether officially or off the record. Ask the guys working the front lines, too. Not some PR “person” being paid to keep the panic to a minimum in the community by withholding pertinent information.

FYI – most authorities run on the misguided notion that too much information shared with the general public will cause panic. So they tend to err on the side of too little information. They think we’ll all start running around like headless chickens the second something goes awry. OF course, I don’t expect you to curl into the fetal position the second an alarm bell sounds. But I would like you to know what the alarm bell is ringing for, (research your area) and apply the appropriate pre-determined response.

Not panicking is still a long way from reacting the right way and doing the right thing, at the right time, and in the right order! A great thing to do (and I’ve done this myself) is a ride along with a cop from your town. Do yourself one favor, listen more than you talk – you’ll learn more.

We have some of the best trained and best equipped first responders in the world – the world!

But first responders are never there first. It isn’t their fault; they just can’t be everywhere at once. Take 9/11 for example – it was ordinary citizens in nearly every case that had to face the threat first, and alone. First responders will get there as fast as they can, believe me. But in the time it takes them to get on scene, you could be in a world of trouble…

This is especially true if you haven’t prepared mentally for the fact that it might be YOU that has to respond first, whether it is in your own defense, or with first aid to save your own life or the life of a family member.   

None of this information is to try and scare you, although unfortunately, sometimes it takes a good dose of fear to get people to become pro-active in their own security and well being. I’m trying to make a realist out of you: Someone that has considered some of the most likely possibilities, made some loose plans, informed their loved ones of their roles and now has a plan ready to be put into effect.

Or better yet, a few plans! LOL.

To borrow from Gavin De Becker (and all of his books should be required reading in my opinion) –

“Every woman is a target. Not every woman needs to be a victim!”

Self-Defense & Situational Awareness Seminars Coming to Your Area Soon.

Cheers, Terry

P.S. One of the most important items you could ever put some thought into organizing is a night time “Go Bag”. Occasionally bad things really do go bump in the night and there’s nothing worse than running around half asleep trying to figure out what you need at hand to face the issue.

Here is the short list of things I have in my bag:

1   Remington Tactical flashlight 150 Lumens with strobe capacity.

2   Spare batteries for it.

3   Gun and five spare magazines – where else can you secure and carry extra magazines in the middle of the night when all you might be wearing is a smile….

4   My picture ID for after the good guys arrive to do their thing.

5   Two packets of Quick Clot 1^st Response Advanced Clotting Sponges.

6   My iphone and the headphones for it, as I want my hands free. (A cell phone should always be kept next to the bed incase power is cut to the house)

7   A good strong folding knife – mine is Zero Tolerance.

8   The monosling “Go Bag” everything goes into.

Save a life – crack a joke!

How do you cope when the chips are down? I mean when it really hits the fan?

If you were to face a life or death situation right now, would you remain calm or panic?

People often associate panic with a colorful scene in their head of people running around screaming and generally making fools of themselves. In most cases people don’t panic like that. They tend to freeze, and perform no task of any use, whatsoever.  

I personally favor those kinds of people that perform the freeze panic, because the screamers, they are an unwelcome distraction to those of us that tend to remain relatively cool headed. Also, those that just stop doing anything are usually easier to get moving again, particularly if the cool headed person can give them a simple task to perform.

So which are you?

I recall spending a great deal of time working in and around helicopters during my time in the Commandos, and, as a means of transporting troops, they make great paperweights.

They don’t glide worth a damn when they stop working which can be very troublesome when you are 3000ft up in the air.

It was during such an occasion that the “cab” I was riding in decided to be a tad temperamental and not work in accordance with our plans for the day. I was a door gunner in the Lynx Attack Helicopter and we were practicing low level insertion for a section of 7 men. Prior to dropping down and beginning our low level approach we were flying at around 3000 ft when the, “heads-up” console (a panel of lights located where the heat & A/C vents are in the dashboard of a car) between the pilot and co-pilot, lit up like a Christmas tree.

Nothing is more alarming to anyone than the sound of alarms and flashings lights in an aircraft that’s already airborne. It just screams problems…

I heard the pilot and co-pilot chatting amongst themselves and running through various drills to find the source of our predicament. At first I thought there really couldn’t have been that much wrong, as the conversation between the two of them, sounded much like they were ordering breakfast at some low key restaurant.

This of course served to sooth my nerves and I was about to go back to scanning the ground far below me for signs of the enemy patrols, when the “cab” dropped like a stone for a couple of hundred feet. If you happen to be kneeling in an open doorway of a helicopter when this happens, I can tell you from personal experience, you will float up into the air weightless… If you are not securely gripping the headrest handle on the back of the co-pilots chair, you will now involuntarily exit the aircraft.

I didn’t want to do this, so I remained holding on firmly to the small handle and began asking a few choice questions of the crew…

“Any chance you lads can keep this thing in the air long enough for us to make it back to base for lunch?”

Imagine my confidence souring to an all time high with the pilots reply,

“Unless they’ve changed chefs, it’s gonna be the same crap as yesterday, so I don’t think you’ll be missing much, mate…”  Nice.

At which point the “cab” did it again, this time dropping even lower than before, and seemingly faster.

I turned to face the boys behind me and they were all laughing. The pilot told me to tell them to “assume the position” which I relayed through various facial expressions and hand signals.

I received several varieties of hand signal in reply and none of them were very polite.

I repeated the instruction insisting that they put their heads down between their legs and grasp around their ears to help prevent whiplash upon impact. I can’t tell you how funny this is to do when you aren’t strapped to anything.

‘Cause if the helicopter hits the ground from that height, it won’t matter what you’re grasping, the last thing that will pass through your mind will be your ass….

They knew it, and so did I. But sometimes it’s still better to do something rather than nothing when facing your own impending death. It gives you a sense of facing things on your own terms – kind of.

The smiles faltered on their faces when the “cab” dropped for a third time and this time dropped so hard and fast several of them floated into the air too, even laden down with all of their kit…

I performed the universally accepted signal for death by drawing my hand across my throat. They were all looking at me wide eyed as it dawned on them the pilots weren’t actually messing around attempting to scare them, we really were in trouble.

Everyone quickly went through the unnecessary drill of double checking safety catches were applied to their weapons, followed by helmet straps pulled a little tighter, followed by shuffling a little lower towards the floor of the “cab”.

We dropped for a fourth time and one of the guys threw his hands up in the air and screamed…. At first I thought he was panicking; then he started laughing his ass off.

He looked like a kid on a roller-coaster, which was his intention.

It’s so loud in the back of these aircraft you can’t hear diddly unless you are hooked into the communications system. But that didn’t stop everyone from starting to roar with laughter. Now the entire section was poised ready to throw their own hands into the air should we drop for a fifth time.

We didn’t drop again and the pilots had already begun a controlled descent the moment the first trouble had begun. As the skids touched down on the grassy hillside in the middle of know where, I heard the pilot say to the co-pilot,

“That was interesting.” As if we had all just taken part in some mundane high school science experiment.

What stopped my panic? Well, it helped me to hear firsthand the complete lack of panic in the pilots’ voices. Later that day they told me my question about us making it back for lunch helped them remain calm – I know they were just saying it to be nice, but I liked it anyway. LOL.

The guys riding in the body of the aircraft were helped by the clown who threw his hands into the air and pretended he was riding a rollercoaster.

No one panicked. People looked a bit concerned for a minute. But no one panicked. Of course, what would they have done if they had of panicked? It wasn’t as if there was anywhere to go… Jumping wouldn’t have helped; you weren’t going to get there any faster than the helicopter.

In just about every case I can imagine, nothing good occurs with panicking: It solves nothing and typically only adds to the problem. These days most folks have had their fill of stress anyway – why would you want to add to it? Good leaders seek out ways to alleviate not only their own stress, but also that of their teammates, so that everyone can perform more effectively.

It’s not just in business where maintaining a sense of humor can help balance the status quo, either. It can also help maintain perspective on family issues, your friends’ problems, debilitating health issues; in fact, just about every facet of your life becomes easier to manage when approached with a sense perspective. - Follow the link.

The higher up the rankings you are in terms of influence within your peer groups or work, the more important this talent becomes. When others look to you the moment the proverbial, “merde” hits the fan, it’s time to step up and lighten the moment.  

Any asshole can add stress – your challenge is to think of a way to lessen it, and quickly!

The faster you can do this, the faster people will come to trust you to be their anchor whenever things go awry. Do you want to be a truly great leader? Make people laugh and relax in a crisis. Defuse the situation by risking a little of yourself in order to bring about some levity. Problem solving becomes a whole lot easier if someone has the ability to temporarily relieve the tension.

It has to be someone; it needs to be someone – so why not you?

Cheers, Terry.

P.S. “Experience: A comb life gives you after you lose your hair..” – Judith Stern.

www.highintensityteambuilding.com

If you do, then you probably also still believe in Santa Claus, the tooth fairy and magic spells….

A long time ago, back when I was young and vibrant, I served with the military. The military is the ultimate place when it comes to rumors. Part of the reason for this is the fact that for the majority of the time enlisted men are treated like mushrooms: Kept in the dark and fed on crap.

One particular day a favorable rumor started in regards to a deployment to Kenya, Africa, but only for a handful of our guys. Of course, the rumor stated that only the most senior guys would be considered and all others should just forget about it…

That didn’t sit well with me as I really wanted this deployment and visit a place I might never get a chance to go to again – and get paid for doing it.

I didn’t even mention my interest to my mates. Most of them would have enjoyed going every bit as much as I would, but they had already stated they didn’t stand a chance and resigned themselves to failure before even trying: I loved that!!

The problem with the military is, it thinks of itself as some sort of dictatorship and everyone should follow the rules. I’m in favor of the system in war time because second guessing orders gets men killed, more often than not.

 But during peace time, I believe the rules should be approached a tad more open minded…

Plus telling me not to do something is pretty much a freaking guarantee that I’ll do it. That’s what got me into the Commandos in the first place. Even my own Father didn’t think I could make it. Everyone said you’re crazy, they’ll beat the crap out of you and fail you, and then what’ll you do?

As if the risk of not making it should be enough to deter one from even trying? WTH?

A plan started to form in my mind: A plan of audacity, rule bending and just a hint of rebelling against the system. But one must be careful. The military doesn’t take kindly to individual free thinking souls – unless they come with a smile and truck loads of charm and persistence. Of which I am amply blessed when my mind is set to achieve something.

My war of persistence began in a very low key and unassuming manner. The day after the rumor began, I showed up at the Sergeants’ office and off handedly remarked that if there were to be a trip to Kenya, I would be willing to deploy, even on short notice.

Did you notice how I twisted it around a bit? Now the trip didn’t sound so much like the glory trip it might have seemed initially. I was actually doing him a favor by letting him know that no matter what happened, I was his go-to-guy if things looked dicey for putting boots on the ground.

It didn’t work – exactly, “Vaughan, you’re a wanker. And that little line making the whole thing sound like you’re helping me out here, that’s ballsy…”

OK. I know. Not the most auspicious of beginnings, but here’s where lesser men would have tucked tail and walked away. I was just getting started.

So for the next two weeks here is how it went for my poor sergeant:

Every morning, after every lunch, last thing in the afternoon, I would “show up” and see what was going on at the office. After a few days of my becoming a regular at his office, he began to relent. I knew I was winning the first time he said he’d put me on the standby list, if anyone couldn’t go due to injury, sickness or whatever, I would be top of the back-up list.

Believe me, that was a victory. The war wasn’t won yet, but I’d certainly let the enemy know he was in for a tough uphill battle. Time to up the ante…

Now I started making tea runs for him, whether he needed a cuppa or not. Or runs to the Naffy, (the on base military shop selling T-shirts, coke, candy bars and other assorted merchandise the boys might need).

I let folks think I was in real trouble and having to do some running around to make it all OK again with the sergeant. Of course eventually he’d had enough, more than enough. He saw me coming and I could see the color drain from his face.

I always smiled, I always managed to make him laugh, but I was also driving him crazy. After two weeks he’d reached his limit.

“Vaughan, if you don’t quit bugging me the only place you’ll be getting deployed to is Arbroath!”  Arbroath is a town in Scotland where no one wants to be, not even the Scots who live there… Everything was on the line now. Should I continue or accept defeat?

I rolled the dice. “But, sergeant, this would stop today if you’d give me a shot and put me on that deployment. Do you know how much paperwork is going to be involved with actually re-assigning me to 45 Commando? Sending me to a whole new unit? (Believe me it’s worth mentioning that if there’s one thing warriors hate, its paperwork – and this guy was a soldiers, soldier). I hit a nerve.

What I was saying in not so many words was, this will not stop. I will do this until you re-assign me to another unit, or put me on the list for Kenya. And I said it without actually saying it. I would never overtly threaten a senior rank, especially not his guy, I liked him!

I saw the doubt in his eyes. It was time to seal the deal.

“I’ll not bother you with anything again, ever, if you’ll do me a solid and put me on the list.”

“FINE! Now leave me the hell alone…” He tried to sound angry, but he was already chuckling as he began walking away.  He added this as he left,

“If anyone else had worked as hard as you for this I’d have hung myself a week ago… Hell, if the whole Commando Brigade was as stubborn as you I could rule the freaking world…..” I believed him.

Three weeks later the personnel list for Kenya was posted, and would you Christmas Eve it, my name was on the list. Guess what I heard for the next few weeks,

“Vaughan’s so freaking lucky. How the hell did he get on the list?”

“Some blokes have all the luck. It’s just not fair.”

Typically these sorts of comments came from those that had quit trying before it ever began.

Success of any sort isn’t about luck. Luck is something that happens to us. But this line of reasoning means you are at the whim of chance. Something, or someone, has the power to rule your life.

It also means that when bad things happen, when “bad luck” strikes, your mindset is all wrong. You take on the attitude that of course something bad has happened, you knew your luck couldn’t last forever. Right?

Horsepucky!

If you don’t believe in luck, then whatever happens isn’t about the wind changing and your good/bad fortune suddenly slapping you in the face. It’s just what happens. Life happens. There is no good or bad, there are just things.

How you choose to look at them is all a mindset. Saying, “it’s just bad luck” gives the power for your life over to an age old superstition.

If you are stuck on the side of a mountain, lost after a long hike and it suddenly starts to rain, guess what? Mother Nature isn’t kicking sand in your face. She’s just doing what she does, watering the plants. You just happen to be standing in the garden when she does.

When you succeed at something and everyone around you is saying, oh you’re so lucky, nothing like that ever happens to me… Guess what? It wasn’t luck, it was work. It was putting yourself out there and taking calculated chances. It was at least having the balls to try. - follow this link to find out more about creating your own luck.

You won’t always get the outcome you desire. So what? You’ll still have more than you did before embarking on the journey, even if it’s more experience…

The biggest regrets you’ll ever have in life will be the ones where you didn’t even get in the game in the first place. You didn’t even try.

Life is not a spectator sport.

And it won’t play out the way you want it to if you don’t at least start taking charge of its direction. TAKE ACTION!

Stop using “Bad luck” as an excuse for why you didn’t even try! Make your own luck by working hard and being in the right place, at the right time, for the right reasons, and watch what happens.

The situation I mentioned earlier about being stuck on the side of a mountain when the rain begins, well I’m betting half of you said, “What the hell would I be doing on the side of a mountain?”

I have news for you. You’re already on the side of a mountain. That’s where life is played out. Those that succeed and make the biggest contribution to their own happiness are the ones that can say, “Well, I won’t be thirsty tonight” the second it starts to pour.

They didn’t start saying things like, “Isn’t this typical. My bad luck just keeps getting worse and now here comes the rain”…. It might not be what you asked for. It might be a different result than the one you were trying for.

But at least you are trying!

Keep trying and it’s only a matter of time before your luck changes! Hahaha!!

Cheers, Terry

Hello gang, nice to be back and I hope you lot had a dandy weekend.

We are going to be having a look at a few close calls; a few, “I nearly died” incidents; even a few close calls that others have experienced and then see what benefit these brushes with the reaper can be to all of us.

I’ll start with one instance where we were deployed somewhere hot and sticky (Royal Marines) and had been tasked with putting on a firepower display using 51mm mortar. We were a small cog in a big wheel that day and our “out of the box” (straight out of Officer training at Commando training center) 2nd Lieutenant was keen as mustard to prove what he could do taking charge of our fire-team.  He was determined he could set a new record for the amount of H.E. (high explosive) rounds we could have airborne at the same time…

I wonder how many stupid mistakes have been made throughout history by someone trying to impress someone else and all for the wrong reasons? I’m going to be conservative and say probably just a few.

Anyhoow, we had set up the mortars, had opened several boxes of explosives and were now standing by to start dropping them in on an area about 600 meters away.

So far so good… 

The order to commence firing came over the radio and so it began. Three of us had a system that went something like this:

One man would pull the tape off the rounds (and extract the safety pin which was a bit like the pin used on hand grenades) before handing them to -

Man number 2 would then feed the round into the top of the mortar tube, before -

Man number three pulled the firing handle at the base of the tube, ”launching’ the projectile down range – tadaaa!

Normal rate of fire for these things is 6 – 8 rounds per minute. Accept if you’re a new officer ready to re-invent the wheel. This guy thought that if he harassed us enough we could send enough of these things into the air it would be as if it were raining rounds…

Bad things happen when the man in charge let’s his ego start dictating protocol.

So there was a nice rhythmic popping soundeach time a mortar round left the tube, only interrupted by the constant babble of the officer behind us insisting we,

“Do it faster..” 

I wanted to reply, “that’s what she said” - but of course I didn’t, I didn’t have time…

So we, ”went faster”. As is nearly always the case a wise and well respected Sargeant wandered over from near the high powered gathering of Brass a short distance away, in order to bestow some wise words of caution upon our benevolent leader. Bare in mind, the three of us lowly grunts were already exchanging worried glances about various safety issues that increasing the rate of fire was having. Including heating the mortar tube barrel up dangerously high. Mortars tend not to leave deformed, overheated tubes, in the unfettered state they were intended.

The 2nd Lt. of course ignored the mother hen sargeant and insisted we actually increase speed further.

I now found myself holding a mortar in each hand, pin removed, and trying to drop the explosive into the tube as soon as the earlier bomb had cleared it. Tensions were running high and we were starting to snap at each other when we weren’t performing our individual tasks fast enough.

It was during one of these exchanges that it happened…

The guy pulling the safety pins asked me if the last round he handed to me had the pin still in it. This of course meant I had to turn my head to check, meanwhile, unseen by me, the guy holding the mortar tube and pulling the firing lever, was having trouble getting the arm pulled down to strike the base of the round, already in the tube.

During this heated and rapid discussion the 2nd Lt didn’t approve of our slowing down and yelled over all of us to hurry the hell up; “people” were watching. 

I quit trying to talk and feed ammo into the tube at the same time. I began lining up the next mortar round over the opening of the tube, poised to release it, when I had a flash of doubt as to whether I had heard the tell-tale sound of the previous round firing. I withdrew the new round out of the line of fire as the old round left the tube.

In terms of how close we come to spreading ourselves all over the firing line, let me say this, the launched round burnt the thumb holding the new round I was about to drop as it passed. If the two high explosive rounds had met, there wouldn’t have been enough meat left from our fire team to put into a plastic sack.

For a few seconds all firing ceased. Oddly enough, no-one complained. The “new” officer withdrew, leaving command in the “capable” hands of the sargeant while he went in search of other pressing matters on which to focus his attention. The color had drained completely from all of our faces. In a typically cool tone the sargeant suggested we continue, only this time placing only one round in the tube at a time.

No one on the team felt inclined to contradict him.

The whole exchange only took a few seconds and then we were back to firing at the approved rate of speed. This time the comforting sound of mortars leaving the tube was interlaced with sporadic giggling as we all took stock of how close we’d come to blowing ourselves up.

Over the next couple of days we’ll have a look at leadership, ego, humor, and how much more effective we all are when the guy in charge has a cool head!

Cheers, Terry.

P.S. “One thorn of experience is worth a whole wilderness of warning.” – James Russell Lowell

www.highintensityteambuilding.com

http://www.break.com/index/how-to-report-the-news.html typically sarcastic English humor and it includes cursing, so make sure your kids or boss aren’t within earshot.

http://www.break.com/index/dog-poops-during-live-news-segment.html you can’t understand a word the news reporters are saying, but I don’t think you’ll need too…..

http://www.break.com/cute-girls/pogostick-girls.html not sure what type of insurance these girls are trying to sell, or in which country it was aired, but I’m thinking about changing my policy..

http://www.break.com/horror/horror-music-video.html I’m a horror movie nut and it was fun trying to guess which movie these clips are from.

http://www.break.com/horror/bedfellows—short-film.html – this one isn’t funny, turn your volume up and see if it makes you jump..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GoCqvnJFUUA&feature=rec-r2-2r-3-HM there’s no sound for this compilation of clips, but some of these really look like they hurt, so it’s worth a watch.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXsK5wyh3tA&feature=related some of these pictures are amazing. You’ve got to wonder WTH some of these folks were thinking to get into this kind of mess!

What he REALLY MEANS….

“That’s women’s work!” Really Means – It’s dirty, difficult and thankless, and I don’t want to do it.

“Can I help with dinner?”  Really Means – Why isn’t it already on the table?

“It would take too long to explain..” Really Means – I have no freaking clue how this works but I’m not admitting that to you.

“We’re going to be late because of you!” Really Means – Now I have a legitimate reason for driving like an asshole, testing the very limits of my car and reflexes, and I expect no screaming or drama from you.

…and you thought your life sucked…

 Taken from the incredibly funny Book F My Life by Maime Valette, Guillaume Passaglia, and Didier Guedj .

“Today I was volunteering at a nursing home, and I was calling bingo numbers. A woman suddenly stood up and started making noises. I assumed she had won, and began clapping. She fell on the floor and died of a heart attack. I applauded her death…”

“Today my Father asked me if he could borrow my electric razor because he wanted to surprise Mum later. Anxious to see him without his lifelong beard, I willingly agreed. Half an hour later he exited the bathroom, beard fully intact…”

“Today I was getting my teeth cleaned at the dentists office. Looking up at his nose, I saw runny snot dripping onto his lip. I tried to slowly move away. “STOP!” He ordered me. The movement of his lips cause the snot to fall right into my open mouth….”

“Today, while I was working, my ex-girlfriend came in to apply for a job. She had broken up with me for another guy, so I can’t stand to be in the same room with her. The manager hired her on the spot. I have to train her…”

Pearls of wisdom:

Don’t do for others what, given the chance, they wouldn’t do for themselves.

An expert is someone called in at the last minute to share the blame.

A retired husband is a wife’s full time job.

Even at a mensa convention, someone is the dumbest person in the room

One last joke:

The old man was critically ill. Feeling that death was near he caled for his lawyer.

“I want to become a Democrat. Get me change of registration form.”

Slightly surprised the lawyer asked him,

“But why? You’ll be dead soon, so why change now?” 

“That’s my business young man, just make it happen!”

A few days later the registration had been filed and the old man was now indeed a Democrat. The lawyer was once again at the old mans side as he closed in on death.

Suddenly the old man began coughing and gasping for air and it was obvious he was close to the end. Curiousity go the better of the lawyer and he attempted to once again get an answer to his question,

“Please, you are so close to death, tell me why you changed your affiliation?”

The old man took a deep raspy final breath and in a feint whisper replied,

“… now… there’s.. one less.. Democrat…”

Cheers, Terry

P.S. Instead of writing a famous “quote” today, as I do for most days, I wanted to draw your attention to something that occurred earlier this week – you might not have even heard anything about it on the news, which is why I deemed it essential to make mention of it myself. If, after reading the article it strikes a chord with you, please cut and paste the story and email to your friends – these men should not be forgotten:

You’re a 19 year old kid.

You’re critically wounded and dying in the jungle in the Ia Drang Valley. November 11, 1965. LZ X-ray , Vietnam

Your infantry unit is outnumbered 8-1 and the enemy fire is so intense, from 100 or 200 yards away, that your own Infantry Commander has ordered the MediVac helicopters to stop coming in.

You’re lying there, listening to the enemy machine guns and you know you’re not getting out. Your family is 1/2 way around the world, 12,000 miles away, and you’ll never see them again. As the world starts to fade in and out, you know this is the day.

Then – over the machine gun noise – you faintly hear that sound of a helicopter. You look up to see an unarmed Huey. But … it doesn’t seem real because no Medi-Vac markings are on it.

Ed Freeman is coming for you.

He’s not Medi-Vac so it’s not his job, but he’s flying his Huey down into the machine gun fire anyway. Even after the Medi-Vacs were ordered not to come. He’s coming anyway. And he drops it in and sits there in the machine gun fire, as they load 2 or 3 of you on board. Then he flies you up and out through the gunfire to the doctors and nurses.

And, he kept coming back!! 13 more times!!

He took about 30 of you and your buddies out who would never have gotten out. Medal of Honor Recipient, Ed Freeman, died last Wednesday at the age of 80, in Boise , Idaho . May God Rest His Soul. I bet you didn’t hear about this hero’s passing, but we’ve sure seen a whole bunch about Tiger Woods. . .

But nothing on the death of Medal of Honor Winner Ed Freeman.

Shame on the American media!!!

Now … YOU pass this along on YOUR mailing list.

Submitted by former Huey pilot Dick, Williamsport, Md.