The SandGram

Dear Gang,
There were three morale boosters while over in Iraq that made the world of difference for me. First was Anysoldier.com, an organization that I am a fevered believer in. Second was Boca Java Coffee. They sent over two hundred pounds of coffee to us over the course of our last couple of months there. Finally, having the internet available to email to home, family and friends made a world of difference for a solid piece of mind.

Well, I can tell you that being invited by Marty and Sue Horn from AnySoldier.com to participate in a fund raiser up in St. Louis was a no brainer this past weekend, I mean, you call, I haul. “Hey Marty, just give me the who, what, where and when.” All I had to do next was to get permission from my Commanding Officer which went like this if you were sitting next to my desk when I called. “Hey honey, do you mind if I fly up to Missouri for a fund raiser for Marty in June? What is it? Ohhhhh just a little ride to help raise money for the cause. Bike ride? Well, no not a bike. Yes, a motorcycle, guess I left that part out of it. Yes honey, you did tell me that I could buy another airplane before I ever bought a motorcycle. I promise I’ll be careful. Yes, I will only smoke a few cigars with Major Pain. You don’t mind? Great, thanks honey, I love you too!!”

The big hurdle was done with two phone calls, one to the wife and the other to jack up my life insurance and I was on the road to Missouri. Della Williams, a dispatcher for the Wentzville Police Department, put the whole thing together and man did she do a fantastic job. She arranged for T.V. coverage of the event with Channel five of St. Louis, two free Harley’s from Pat, a great supporter who owns “Doc’s Harley” of St. Louis, the ride route, the Army color guard, a band, picnic, poker run and hotels for us. I’m talking about months of planning to put something this big together.

Everything worked out great till Saturday morning when we found out that Maj Pain from One Marine’s View was stuck in Pittsburg and wouldn’t arrive till one pm that day. The ride started at 11am and we made the decision that we would not leave a Marine behind, so a small group of us would take off late and go get him. Taylor Batten, a live wire thirteen year old girl, who is an honorary Gunny in the Corps, drove all the way down from Michigan with her Family, Cathy and Kevin and brother Tanner for this event. If you go back to Major Pain’s site, you can read all about this wonderful little lady and what she has gone through. She surprised Major Pain at the gate as he was walking up the terminal.

As it turned out, just six bikes for the ride was a lot nicer than in the pack with the other two hundred. We had Harry as the lead, who is a Lieutenant for the Wentzville PD, Leon and Kriss who are Sgt’s with Wentzville as dash three and six, Gary, Marty and myself. The ride started off easy enough as we headed West on highway 70, the only problem was a line of thunderstorms moving our way. As we cruised along the highway, the skies became darker, then you noticed all the cars heading east bound with their headlights on and covered in water. Then it hit, a few drops at first, followed by a complete deluge of water. The Bikes handled great as we slowed up and took shelter under an overpass. The thunder boomed, visibility dropped to a half mile and it poured for a good 40 minutes as we waited. Harry was able to pull up Accu-weather on his phone so we could get a good peek at the storms. “Hey Taco, you’re a pilot, what does this mean as he showed me the radar picture. It wasn’t good; the line of thunderstorms was over our entire route for the ride. We figured out that we needed to head West, through this, go about twenty miles west or so and then head south to come in behind the line of storms.

With a solid plan and a break in the rain, we took off again. The only problem was the next wall of water we hit about ten minutes later. Our speed dropped down to a crawl as we were pelted with water. Your glasses fog up, you can’t see worth crap and the worst part is the water running down your soaked Levi’s legs into your boots. (that sucked) No stopping this time, we pressed on through the rain and busted out onto the other side of the front into sunshine. Back up to seventy miles an hour in the heat of the sun, we dried us off pretty fast. Except, for the wet boots.

The next couple of hours, once we got off the highway and headed South on route 19, was some of the most beautiful countryside you have ever seen. Sweeping valleys with some good size little mountains and lots of green trees covering many small rivers. Our plan worked great as we watched the storm front off to the east and traveled behind it. The end of the ride was down near Fort Lenoard Wood where Della had a band playing and a cookout by the VFW. It was an outstanding ride and all for a great organization. If you have the chance next year, come on out for it! You won’t be disappointed. I’d like to thank Della, Terry, all the Officer’s of the Wentzville Police Department, The Batten family, Pat from Doc’s and of course Marty and Sue for a great time. I think Major Pain and I lost our butt’s somewhere after two hundred miles out of five hundred, but I would do it again in a heartbeat and twice on Sunday. Until then,
Semper Fi,
Taco

Hey Guys,
I just wanted to wish you all a wonderful Fathers day for the guys out there who are Fathers and thanks to all the wonderful women who helped us be Fathers. So here is a toast to all of you, yes Dad especially you, thanks for everything you did to help me get to where I am now and to Ron, my father in law, for taking care of our family too.

Tonight, I thought I would pass on a nice story from an Outstanding Marine, 1stLt Zech and his Dad Ed. As you know… all good Military stories always start out, “I shit you not” or “No Shit man, this really happened.” This piece deals with some Navy guys with a lot of time on their hands to make the ultimate “Whistling Death.”
I hope you all have a great week and I’ll talk to you soon.
Semper Fi, Taco

Subject: Dixie Station Strike

Yes, this really happened Once again history is stranger then fiction, and alot funnier:USS Midway VA-25’s Toilet Bomb.In October 1965, CDR Clarence J. Stoddard,Executive Officer of VA-25 “Fist of the Fleet”,flying an A-1H Skyraider, NE/572 “Paper Tiger II”from Carrier Air Wing Two aboard USS Midway carried a special bomb to the North Vietnamese in commemoration of the 6-millionth pound of ordnance dropped. This bomb was unique because of the type… it was a toilet!

The following is an account of this event, courtesy of Clint Johnson, Captain, USNR Ret. Captain Johnson was one of the two VA-25 A-1 Skyraider pilots credited with shooting down a MiG-17 on June 20, 1965.”I was a pilot in VA-25 on the 1965 Vietnam cruise.572 was flown by CDR C. W. “Bill” Stoddard. His wingman in 577 (which was my assigned airplane) was LCDR Robin Bacon, who had a wing station mounted movie camera (the only one remaining in the fleetfrom WWII).

The flight was a Dixie Station strike (South Vietnam) going to the Delta. When they arrived in the target area and CDR Stoddard was reading the ordnance list to the FAC, he ended with “and onecode name Sani-flush”. The FAC couldn’t believe it and joined up to see it. It was dropped in a dive with LCDR Bacon flying tight wing position to film the drop. When it cameoff, it turned hole to the wind and almost struck his airplane. It made a great ready room movie. The FAC said that it whistled all the way down. The toilet was a damaged toilet, which was going to be thrown overboard. One of our plane captains rescued it and the ordnance crew made a rack, tailfins and nose fuse for it. Our checkers maintained a position to block the view of the air boss and the Captain while the aircraft was taxiing forward. Just as it was being shot off we got a 1MC message from the bridge, “What the hell was on 572’s rightwing?” There were a lot of jokes with air intelligence about germ warfare. I wish that we had saved the movie film.”

Guys,
This is a letter from my Dad. It could be a two part letter to the people, but I told him it was fine as stated. There are so many things in this piece that ring true and need to be said. I truly believe that we are on the brink of something very big here in the world between our cultures and people.
Anyway, I asked him to write something for you, so here he goes.

Combat Deaths are part of victory,

In the 18th, 19th century, WWI and WWII, Americans believed in their military leaders and believed in a military VICTORY. They understood that only victory ends a war. We did not achieve victory in either Korea or Viet Nam. Those “wars” never ended. What has happened to our nation? Why do we not allow the military leaders to do their jobs? Why are the politicians now running the wars, retreating at every possible turn?

My uncle served with the 10th Mountain Division in Italy during WW II. My grandfather’s younger brother served in WW I in France. My great-great grandfather served and died in Pickett’s charge at Gettysburg. One great-great-great grandfather served in the War of 1812 and my other great-great-great grandfather in the Revolutionary War. My father-in-law served as a Naval Surgeon during WW II and Korea.

My brother-in-law served as an NFO (Naval Flight Officer known as a “back-seater”) in the F-14 during the Cold War with Communist Russia in the 1970s. My first cousin served in the Korean Conflict. I served in Viet Nam 1967-1968 in I Corps during the Tet Offensive. I am the first in my extended family to have made the military my career. Did we, the living, and our ancestors go to war just so this country could go down in defeat?

I lost a daughter in an accidental fall so I know the loss of a child and the pain it brings. I feel for every parent who lost a child in combat, or brother or sister who lost a sibling or wife/child that lost her husband/their father due to war. But do combat deaths mean we retreat and wait for an enemy that has a stated purpose of killing or subjugating our country and the world we know? It appears that the sole purpose of almost all news broadcasts is to daily report on, drone on and dwell upon on the number of our troops killed and wounded in our current conflict daily followed by the accumulated total since 2003. Nothing positive is reported about what our troops are doing in Iraq and around the world.

According to DOD numbers, we suffered 4,435 deaths during the American Revolution, 2,260 deaths during the War of 1812. Let us skip over the numbers during the Indian, Mexican, Civil and Spanish American Wars. During WW I, we had 53,402 deaths, 63,114 other deaths in service not in theater. WW II we suffered 291,557 battle deaths, and 113,842 other deaths in service not in theater. What would our lives be like if we had surrendered and withdrawn from any of these wars/conflicts? Would we be speaking German or Japanese?

In the Korean Police Action, we had 33,741 battle deaths, and 2,835 other deaths in theater. In Viet Nam we had 47,415 battle deaths, and 10,785 other deaths in theater. In neither war was the outcome a clear VICTORY for the USA. The politicians, the anti-war movement and the “being tired of war” populous movement won out over victory.

Desert Shield/Desert Storm (1990-1991) we lost 147 battle deaths, and 235 other deaths in theater. We achieved the goal of kicking the Iraqi forces out of Kuwait, but stopped short of removing Saddam Hussein so as not to destabilize the region politically or militarily. We know the results of this failure to achieve total VICTORY. In 2001, nineteen dedicated, fanatical men killed over 3,000 innocent people in the attacks of 9-11.

We serve/served in the military for various reasons, we try to do our best and we try to win! According to DOD and VA figures, over 42 million men and women have served during our wars, over 650,000 died in our countries’ defense, 524,000 died in other deaths in service (non-theater) and 1,431,290 non-mortal wounds were recorded. I repeat. Political figures need to lead this nation to VICTORY not to defeat. This is done by supporting the troops and not using their funding bills for political advantage, retaining office or adding earmarks for their home states. We are no longer isolated by the two large oceans east and west from missile attack or the suicide bombers who desire to bring in and detonate a nuclear/biological or chemical weapon. Sadly, victory comes with losses in our military ranks.

As a child, I remember the dark air raid window shades, the troop convoys constantly going by our house, and being taken to the railroad bridge to count the 150-200 long flatbed trains hauling planes, trucks, jeeps, trailers, tanks and artillery to Norfolk, Virginia, to be shipped to Europe for the invasion. I will not forget the joy and celebration when VE day was announced, and we all went downtown to Lynchburg’s main street to cheer and dance for joy.

We gave up a lot of things so the troops would have the best of everything; no one really complained. The only dessert we had occasionally was Eagle Brand pie with vanilla wafers as a crust so we could save the rationed sugar. I later learned this was only a lime squeeze away from being the Key Lime pie everyone knows it as today. Gasoline was rationed and the Sunday afternoon drives in the mountains of Virginia stopped.

Ask yourself; are you ready to stop getting your Starbucks latte or stop driving your gas hogs even with today’s gasoline prices? What, then, are you doing for the war effort today?

AMERICA, WAKE UP !

Hey Guys,
No story today, just some Admin notes of interest. First of all, I am flying up to St. Louis MO on the 22nd of June to join Marty Horn and Maj Pain for a Harley Bike ride in support of Any Soldier. If anyone is close to St Louis, check out the latest news on http://www.anysoldier.com/ and you will see where the ride starts etc and we hope to see you there.

Second, Yes, I pinned on LtCol the other day with my folks who made it down from DC, my wife, In-laws and another Marine buddy named Reb.
The CO did a great job and I’m very proud that I have made O5.

Third, we are expecting a boy this Oct, so we’ve been throwing names out there and right now “Jesus Mohammad Bell” I think it would reflect the dichotomy of our world today and the future of his classes and race. He would fit in well with all his Hispanic, Islamic classmates the way America is moving and ensure that no college would dare turn him down…
What do you guys think???

Fourth item. “Together we served” this is an incredible website devoted just for each service branch. You have to be a Marine/spouse/dependent to join (and it’s free) I have spent hours playing around on the site, adding ribbons/medals, duty stations, and looking up old friends. There must be over 100,000 Marines on the rolls now, so there are a few guys you might know. If you are former Military, find your branch and join up. I think you will really like this site. The address is http://www.togetherweserved.com/

Semper Fi,
Taco

Let’s talk about my plane today. The mighty KC-130 has been around for almost fifty years or so and they are still pumping the latest version, the “J” model, out of the Lockheed plant in Georgia. Rumor has it that the reserves will start getting the “J” model in the next few years so that we can be compatible with our active duty folks, less of a parts nightmare when we deploy to the gulf. Right now we fly the “T” model in the reserves, a great plane but getting a bit worn out.

The old planes that I flew in the fleet in the early nineties were the “F” and “R” models, which were built, in the early sixties and early eighties. Believe it or not I liked them better than our newer planes in a couple of ways. One reason I liked them better was because they had a “Pisser”. When you had to go to the bathroom you tapped your partner on the arm, gave him the hand sign that you were going to the back and if you were nice, you asked if he wanted a cup of coffee so he would have to go next. Then you sat on the flight deck platform, hopped off into the cargo bay and worked your way back to the ramp of the plane. There you opened a little green covered swing door, dropped the floor plate and stepped up to the urinal drain. All that was required of you was to lift up the small lid to the drain and suction would begin. As you evacuated your bladder the urine would vaporize out of the tail of the plane in to the atmosphere.

Once you were done you reached up and took a handful of water from the emergency water supply (they looked like large coffee pots and were stored along the sides) to wash your hands. This was a great system in my mind because you were able to stretch your legs for a minute and the pee was gone. Now days they have these two big stainless steel vats up front at the bulkhead behind the cockpit. Someone decided when the new planes were built that the urine vapor caused too much corrosion so it should be self-contained. So, you stare at the wall with twenty guys (and sometimes girls) trying not to look at you. What they didn’t count on was volume. See, if you have over twenty guys flying for eight hours or more, you fill up these vats pretty fast. It then becomes a big rush to collect all the plastic bottles out of the trash for waste container duty…

We haven’t even touched on how you drop a flight suit for the ole number two. Maybe, another day, I will share this story though. I always carry a hammock on the long trips and string it up over the ramp area. When it’s my break from flying (three or more pilots) I go back, jump in my sleeping bag, put my eyeshade on and crash. One day when I went back to take a pee and my sleep break I saw this jet guy we were hauling to Norway asleep in my bag, in my hammock with my eyeshade cover on, drooling. I thought that was kind of ballsy to just use my stuff and not ask so I took a small handful of water from the emergency tank and flicked it at his head a couple of feet away. As the water hit his face and woke him up he looked for the source of those drops. Turning his head, he saw me standing on the platform next to the urinal; my flight suit unzipped and “Mr. Johnson” shaking in his direction. Have you ever seen someone try to get out of a small hammock fast? They become very unbalanced and sort of get dumped out. That’s what happened to our F-18 pilot as he fell a few feet to the hard metal ramp. Of course he thought I had sprayed him, but when I showed him that he was hit with water not pee he calmed down a bit. I told him to find another spot for this one was mine.

See, now that we don’t have that pisser anymore, you can’t play those good old fun and games like you use to. Oh well, I’ll have to think of some more.
Semper Fi,
Taco

Guys,
I just want to say thanks for all that you have done for the US and her service men/women. As I sit and watch “Patton” on AMC, I am reminded that we can win all wars with the right attitude.
Semper Fi,
Taco

Until today, I believed that we were winning the war and that it was in fact winnable, but I came across official correspondence today that offers irrefutable proof this is no longer the case. The situation here is obviously untenable -some might say hopeless, as evidenced by the desperate measures that have been taken at the highest levels in Washington – measures I never believe our leadership would ever enact, at least not in my lifetime. This situation has been brewing for some time now and it involves officers at the highest levels, including elected officials and even the Commander in Chief. They were able to keep the incident secret up until now but it is only a matter of time until the press gets a hold of it. It will be impossible for me to deny that I actively participated in what transpired. When the time comes, I will accept responsibility for my actions. I am confident, however, that nothing will happen to me for several months. Numerous lawyers from more than one Service component have examined the situation and there is nothing any of them can do to change it. It’s a very simple matter of law. I must admit that I never thought I would ever be put in this position. In so many ways it seems like a dream. Please do not let this incident cause you to lose faith in the leadership of this country. You must understand that the chain of command did what they could given the information they had. Please do not blame President Bush or anyone in the Marine Corps. If you must blame anyone, blame me. And blame this damned war. I am convinced that none of this would have happened had it not been for this damned war. So far the situation has gone as high as Rumsfeld and although he did not address me personally, I received word from one of his subordinates who stated in a very terse message: “.the following named officers on the Reserve status list of the Marine Corps have been selected for promotion to the grade of Lieutenant Colonel.”
My name is on that list…
Semper Fi,
Taco
Thanks to my good friend Tom, for this great piece

Hey guys,
Just wanted to say hi from Korat Thailand! This det has been fun but the best part is hijacking a Thai internet signal and chatting with my wife and folks via MSN messenger. I was finally able to get the mic and video phone to work this morning and talked to Mom and Dad for about an 1/2 hour. That was great! Wanted to chat with Teresa but she was in bed already. After I talk to her last night, right before she went to work (we are 12 hours ahead of Texas), we were attacked by swarms of bugs. The building I was in was infested with these dime sized termite looking winged bugs. There were thousands on every window and we had to shut the lights off to keep them from attacking. So here we were in the dark, with the only light coming from my computer screen and hundreds of bugs in the room flying into the side of your head. Well, when I walked home, it was a mile and half stroll, in the pitch black night. As I walked along, (in the dark cause my flashlight is busted) I kept hearing a crunching sound underfoot. A car finally came along and when the headlights played out in front of me, the entire road was moving. I mean it was flowing. There were creepy crawly things, millipedes, giant beetles, frogs and these termite bugs. I just walked as fast as I could and tried not to think of the bugs I turned into road pizza.

Yesterday and the day before we flew low levels over Thailand in the Herc at 500 feet. It was a rush to pass over these rice paddies and small towns. The farmers would all look up and wave at us. The cattle would get spooked and run, those farmers didn’t wave at us, I think they gave us another international type of Hello. The Aerial Drop platoon had made two pallets of water that weighed about 1,500 pounds each. We dropped them over the LZ on each pass at the end of our low level. The dummies parked their trucks about ten yards from the drop zone, so on the second pass we slide over on our track and dropped them almost on top of their cars. You could see them running as this bundle of water came out of the back of our plane at 1,000 feet and landed only yards from where they were standing around, smoking cigarettes next to these small Thai pickup trucks. We caught some flak over that but they really couldn’t complain because they were parked right next to the drop zone being lazy so they didn’t have to walk far in the heat.

Then as we were zooming off, we notice one of these giant Buddha’s on a hill to our right. “hey, let’s get some shots of that” so we did a nice wing over in the Herc and came back along the ridge where this hundred foot gold Buddha was looking over the peaceful rice lands.

We started to head back when the Thai’s announced that thunderstorms had over taken the airfield. Since it was a giant isolated cell, we were ok 20 miles north of the airport and just flew around the country side over our low level route at 500 feet. If we saw something of interest, we’d turn and check it out. The funny thing that sticks out in my mind, as we cruised up the valley with ridges on either side of us was the trees. There in the middle of a plowed field would stand one lone tree that must have been over 150 to 200 feet tall. It would have this ball of leaves right on the top and that was it. Almost like they trimmed it all the way to the top. Why it would be in the middle of their plowed fields was the top question we had.

We got into the field before the second thunderstorm hit and a wall of rain turned the whole base to a giant puddle. The Marines spend a lot of time in the Canteen where they make our meals. The Thai food is awesome here, the chairs padded, and mild AC relieves the hot temp outside, so it’s our hangout. Don’t ask for an American Omelet though, better to just ask for scrambled eggs and bacon. They will wash our clothes once a day here, up to 9 pieces max.

We had a mixer with the Thai Officers a couple of nights ago. Here is a shot of me and “Trixx” who fly’s the F-16. It cracked us up, because all the Thai-jet guys have these goofy call-signs that they think are tough and hard sounding. Some that stick out in my mind were “CaveMan” “DeathMaster” “DieHard” but the best I thought was “Delay” because they said he was slow in the jet (thinking wise) They didn’t know what Taco Bell was so they must think mine was plenty dumb. I could see them now, “Why didn’t he just go by KFC if he wants to be named after a fast food joint.”

Trixx said that XXX was already taken when he got to the Squadron, so he was Tri-XX, He wondered why I laughed so hard, and I told him that in the States, Trixx’s were for kids. He didn’t like it that I was comparing his tough call-sign to a kids cereal and not the Van Diesel movie by the name of XXX. Ha!!! I liked him though. Oh yeah, I put my apt up for sale and have had a couple of offers. The picture of a dirt road was where we dumped out the bundles. If you follow it up, on the right side is an orange A that is sideways, and the left are their cars I was telling you about that we almost smashed.

I wish that I was there. Its fun hanging out with the guys again but Home is where my heart is.
Semper Fi,
Taco

Well Gang,
I’m finally over in Khorat Thailand after a long 40 hour flight over the water. I was lucky enough to meet up with Gunny John and his awesome wife the second night I was in Okinawa Japan. We had dinner at one of those little places where you sit down and cook your own meat over this little fire pit. It’s all you can eat for about nineteen dollars, really not bad for Japanese prices. I know he talked about it on his blog, but you really build a great friendship writing and it’s not often that you actually get to meet the face at the other end of the computer. So now I figure it’s my mission in life to fly around the world and say hi to all our blogger Brothers and Sisters in arms!!

I have been asked what it is like to fly over the Pacific, for forty hours. I mean, what do you do up in the cockpit all that time. Well, as we stare out the window at the countless white caps, we play little thought games over the ICS (intercom) to pass the time. Mind you, there are sometimes over ten people on this group line and the answers come so fast that you might now know who said what. I’ll pass on an actual conversation that we had from Japan to Thailand during the eight hours. The funny thing is this might go strong for about an hour and then die out only to be brought back to life a little later.
The guy I’m flying with was in the left seat this leg, he clicks his interphone and fires the first shot.
“If you could throw anyone out of the back of the Herk, who would you toss?”
From the line comes the following exchange, all different people, so I couldn’t even tell you who they were.
“The first person I’d toss is Rosie, that fat pig”
“Screw that, Hillary would have to be first, then maybe tie a line to Rosie and take her second”
“I have to ask, can we do a group dump or would we have to come down and land to pick up each person? I only ask because we might exceed the monthly allotted flight time for the Herk and be forced to ask Congress for more money.”
“That’s a good question, how about a group dump and we set up a pay-for-view deal to offset the cost and try to recoup some of the money the Gov’t spends to let us fly?”
“Oh that would be rocking, put a little helmet cam showing their face as we toss them out the back and watch them put little holes in the desert.”
“How about starting on the West coast and working our way to DC? That way we can take all those know it all Hollywood idiots and give them a free ride.”
“Yeah, I’m up for that. Send that chick, oh what’s her name? Married to that chicken shit…Tim Robbins, … oh it’s Susan Sarandon, I’d toss them first.”
“No way, Sean Penn would be on my list first. He’s a traitor!”
“God, you guys are forgetting Jane Fonda. I know you aren’t Fonda of Hanoi Jane.”
“Hey boss, I don’t think we’d have enough room back here for all the Asswipes in Hollywood.”
“I know, but we could make a damn fine start.”
“Well I still say that we toss Rosie first, but we should strap her in a car and then put a camera mounted on the dash so you can watch her ride all the way down. I know the average American would pay big money for that…I mean that’s real entertainment if you ask me.”
“Quality”
“Must see TV”
“I’d cancel my check to green peace for that.”
“I’d give my left nut”
“A nut for Rosie? That would be an over kill. I’d just give up smoking.”
“I wouldn’t even give up my worst enemy’s nut for that pig.”
“Well, can I tie a line from her to your nut? That is if you were willing to give up one.”
“You guys are sick….”

This banter will go on forever. That is just a sample of what you might hear over the intercom system on a long trip with a bunch of Marines. The language is a bit more graphic, I had to tone it down, but you get the idea.

I hope that you all have a great day; I’ll send more updates from Thailand as the week goes on.
Semper Fi,
Taco