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Pissed off old Patriot
Don't ever underestimate an old man -
I will never forget a certain Chief Warrant Officer in my USAF Reserve hospital. Chief R___e was required to run between Carswell AFB and Lackland AFB frequently because our hospital had a detachment at Carswell with HQ at Lackland. Obviously this required he drive his car up and down I-35 frequently. Once, taking a rest stop en route, he was confronted with a “ne-er do well” young male who got off his bike, pulled a knife and demanded money or whatever from the old man. The Chief pulled a pistol on him and said “Boy - never forget this lesson.. “Never bring a knife to a gun fight.” The youngster backed off as the Chief took his knife away (and maybe slashed his bicycle tires to give him some walking time to cool off).
Point is - never underestimate an old man.. he has seen way more situations than the young idiots can imagine. I thought about the Chief when I read this article. I strongly encourage you to subscribe to “Field Ethos” it is a wonderful newsletter and now they have a print magazine that is coming out.
What I am putting below is a lesson in what Americans are made of. I heard today on the radio there are something like 200 or 300 million guns in America. Yep I believe it. We don’t have a gun problem- we have a criminal/mental health/ alcohol and drug problem. Remember, the Cain and Able story. There was no gun involved, just a rock. And how did King David drop the Giant? with a slingshot and a rock. The gun doesn’t kill.. the rock did only when thrown by a human. We don’t blame the match in a fire that consumes a house - we blame the arsonist. We don’t blame the car or the car manufacturer that runs over a man cutting grass in his yard. We blame the drunk that was (not) steering the car properly. So why are “WE” blaming the guns?
So come on - “Let’s Go Brandon”. Just try. Might find some 80 year old Patriots still live out in the country - especially in Texas.
Here is the Field Ethos brief read.
By Lucas Bernard
Retreating back to Boston after their embarrassing defeat at Lexington and Concord, British Regulars continued to be harried by local militia. Like a swarm of angry wasps, Minutemen stung and flew away again, disappearing into the countryside. When they passed by Samuel Whittemore’s house, they could be forgiven if they believed they would have a reprieve from Minuteman potshots. Whittemore was an 80-year-old farmer hunched over his fields—what could he do?
Whittemore was no stranger to war. As a young man he fought for the Crown, being part of a contingent that seized a French fortress in King George’s War. Even at his age, as a Patriot, he could not turn down a chance to pour lead into the lobsterbacked bastards trespassing on his property. Whittemore loaded his musket and lit into some grenadiers from behind a stone wall. Killing one, he tossed his musket down and drew a brace of pistols, killing another grenadier and grievously wounding a third.
The British Regulars finally broke through the surprise of being laid out by a pissed off geriatric farmer and fired at him. A bullet tore into his face, breaking off a piece of his cheek bone. As they charged towards him, Whittemore couldn’t give them the satisfaction of fighting on their terms. With his shots expended, he drew his sword and advanced toward them. The Regulars piled on him, doing their damnedest to turn him into a human pincushion. Some sources say they inflicted six bayonet wounds, others eight. Regardless, many more times than the average person could handle being stuck with a bayonet. As he lay in a pool of his own blood, the Regulars resumed their retreat.
When pursuing militia forces came upon the scene, they found Whittemore struggling to load his musket, endeavoring to kill more redcoats. To comfort their probable bewilderment, he exclaimed “If I can only be the instrument of killing one of my country’s foes, I shall die in peace!” The man knew what he was about.
Although he had finished killing what he found to be an adequate amount of Regulars for that day, he wasn’t quite ready to die. He miraculously recovered from his injuries, presumably through sheer anger and the hope to give more of the King’s men acute lead poisoning. Living another 18 years, he died a free American.
His story stands as an inspiration to us all: rage against the dying of the light and always stand ready to be the instrument of righteous American wrath.