George D. Keathley Medal of Honor

 Ok folks, this is the last one of my posts on Medal of Honor recipients who attended Texas A&M University.  As I've mentioned before in the lead in to these posts, I didn't attend Texas A&M, but my Son and Daughter and their Spouses did.  So, I have a bit of a affection to that University.  

 

 

 I've been impressed with the Medal of Honor Citations I've read about the Recipients from Texas A&M University and brought to all y'all's attention, but I think this one takes the cake.  I'm not going to summarize it as I couldn't do as good a job as the person that wrote the official Citation.  So...Here it is.

Staff Sergeant George D. Keathly's Medal of Honor Citation:

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at risk of life above and beyond the call of duty, in action on the western ridge of Mount Altuzzo, Italy. After bitter fighting his company had advanced to within 50 yards of the objective, where it was held up due to intense enemy sniper, automatic, small arms, and mortar fire. The enemy launched 3 desperate counterattacks in an effort to regain their former positions, but all 3 were repulsed with heavy casualties on both sides. All officers and noncommissioned officers of the 2d and 3d platoons of Company B had become casualties, and S/Sgt. Keathley, guide of the 1st platoon, moved up and assumed command of both the 2d and 3d platoons, reduced to 20 men. The remnants of the 2 platoons were dangerously low on ammunition, so S/Sgt. Keathley, under deadly small arms and mortar fire, crawled from 1 casualty to another, collecting their ammunition and administering first aid. He then visited each man of his 2 platoons, issuing the precious ammunition he had collected from the dead and wounded, and giving them words of encouragement. The enemy now delivered their fourth counterattack, which was approximately 2 companies in strength. In a furious charge they attacked from the front and both flanks, throwing hand grenades, firing automatic weapons, and assisted by a terrific mortar barrage. So strong was the enemy counterattack that the company was given up for lost. The remnants of the 2d and 3d platoons of Company B were now looking to S/Sgt. Keathley for leadership. He shouted his orders precisely and with determination and the men responded with all that was in them. Time after time the enemy tried to drive a wedge into S/Sgt. Keathley's position and each time they were driven back, suffering huge casualties. Suddenly an enemy hand grenade hit and exploded near S/Sgt. Keathley, inflicting a mortal wound in his left side. However, hurling defiance at the enemy, he rose to his feet. Taking his left hand away from his wound and using it to steady his rifle, he fired and killed an attacking enemy soldier, and continued shouting orders to his men. His heroic and intrepid action so inspired his men that they fought with incomparable determination and viciousness. For 15 minutes S/Sgt. Keathley continued leading his men and effectively firing his rifle. He could have sought a sheltered spot and perhaps saved his life, but instead he elected to set an example for his men and make every possible effort to hold his position. Finally, friendly artillery fire helped to force the enemy to withdraw, leaving behind many of their number either dead or seriously wounded. S/Sgt. Keathley died a few moments later. Had it not been for his indomitable courage and incomparable heroism, the remnants of 3 rifle platoons of Company B might well have been annihilated by the overwhelming enemy attacking force. His actions were in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service.

My eyes got a little damp on reading that. As President Reagan said "Where did we find such Men?"  Thankfully we did!

Peace out y'all! 

Some things went well. Some things didn't!

 Well, apparently, Sarge and I are singing the same song.  You know which one . Skip the commercial at the beginning if you wish to watch.  Otherwise skip the whole thing.

 

Source 

I'm glad that Sarge's procedure went well, albeit he looks more pirate-like than usual.

See what I mean?

My visit to the Medicos went well.  As I mentioned earlier this week, I was in for what I thought would be a loud ride.  A lot of things were the same as the last PET Scan (Positron Emission Tomography Scan) I'd had a few years ago with one exception.  This Scanner was almost completely silent. I darn near took a nap.  The only discomfort, and it was mild, in the process occurred because they were scanning my head and chest, I had to have my arms out of the way.  That meant they had to be above my head and about shoulder width, any wider and I'd be touching the machine.  Not sure what would happen, but the guy running the exam said that's a very big no-no.  I took his word for it.

As soon (40 minutes later) as he got me out of the tube, I learned that he's a baseball fan.  When I asked how the scan went.  He said "No hits, no runs, no men left on base." I asked if that meant "No bad things found?"  

He said that was the case.  I was happy as was Mrs J when I conveyed the news to her. In plain English!

So, this medical adventure seems to be coming to a positive ending.  Got a follow up with my GP next week.  I should get good news as I have not received any bad news from the multiple Doctors I've seen lately so I'm expecting that will be the case.  With that and the paperwork being processed through the DMV and I should be a fully free driver.  I can even go to Lowes by myself if I want.  Mrs J said so!

Hallelujah!

Thanks to all y'all for the words of encouragement.  If you have been through a similar process, you know what I mean.  If you haven't, count your blessings, and hope that streak continues.

So I've said "Thank You" to the Big Guy quite a few times lately as he's always came through for us.  He did it again this time.  So...Thank you, Lord!

May similar results be upon y'all if the circumstances require.  I'll return the favor and keep you in our prayers.

As to the second half of the title of this post.

Awww Fecal Matter!!!! 

Source 

 

Peace out, Y'all, and Heaven Help Us!

juvat 

 

 

Ow

OAFS Photo

No new fiction today.

Had a glaucoma shunt installed in the left eye on Tuesday. While not really painful, the procedure was tedious.

It's only afterwards that it began to sting, just a bit. (And it's the annoying, niggling sort of pain.)

As I suck at typing to begin with, and suck worse with only one eye in battery, I've decided to wait until tomorrow to pick up our tale of skullduggery and nastiness in Scotland.

Stay tuned ...

Visit to Glasgow

Source

"You should have seen it two days ago," MacDonald had trouble keeping his anger down. The rioters had trashed the square around the Cenotaph, Glasgow's memorial to her war dead. Protest signs, trash, why was the so-called Left, so allegedly concerned about the environment, such pigs when they gathered in crowds?

Wolf looked the scene over, the rain continued to fall, as if the very heavens wept for the times they were facing. Then he spoke in a low tone to the man paying the bills.

"Pro-immigration? Open borders?"

MacDonald turned and looked at Wolf, "Yes, I'm sure you've seen this before."

"Yes, people who mean well but with little common sense. Manipulated by those who seek power by any means necessary. I suppose it's always been this way."

"Yes, I suppose it has." MacDonald hesitated for a moment, then asked a question that had been on his mind for some time.

"Where are your people from? Originally, I mean."

Wolf grinned, "Originally? Well, one school of thought suggests we all started in Africa, but I'm assuming you want to know my family's more recent origins."

MacDonald looked uncomfortable for a moment, "I don't mean to pry Mr. Wolf, it's just that you don't look ..."

"White, Mr. MacDonald? Is that what you're driving at?"

"Well ..." MacDonald was starting to regret asking the question.

"I suppose you could say that some of my ancestors came from the Mediterranean, we're not really sure where, perhaps north Africa, maybe Italy, which might explain my dark eyes and complexion. Eventually they wound up in North America, somewhat south of the Rio Grande. The beauty of that is that I can blend in almost anywhere. Except sub-Saharan Africa and much of East Asia. But at a distance? Put a keffiyeh on me and I can pass for the average Arab, grow my beard out and slap a pakol¹ on my head and I can pass as an Afghan."

"I suppose that must be useful in your line of work." MacDonald started walking, they needed to get out of the rain and back to the safehouse.

"Oh indeed, it is."

Wolf had spent the day with MacDonald down in Glasgow, now he was back with the rest of his team on a farm outside Falkirk. It was big enough for them to be comfortable and was isolated enough for them not to draw any unwanted attention to themselves. It also provided easy access to both Glasgow and Edinburgh.

"Have you got our comms established yet, Charlie?" Wolf asked.

The man called Charlie, which wasn't his name, he'd picked up the nickname due to his uncanny resemblance to the late Charles Bronson, answered. "Up and running, boss. I made contact with the sub about an hour ago. They'll be raising their mast every two hours on the hour if we wish to talk to them. If they want to talk to us, they can do that anytime, we'll be monitoring the comms around the clock."

"Good, we all squared away?"

One of the men, they called him Fuji, again not his real name, asked, "So what's the job, boss? Are we here to provide security for someone or are we here to make trouble?"

"From the briefing I got before we left the States, our mission is kind of open ended. The man who gave us the contract said, 'Do whatever they ask, as long as it's in reason and won't drag the United States into war.' So yeah, that's a pretty broad tasking."

"And pretty f**king vague as well," the man who spoke stood up, he had to stoop over as the ceilings in this old house were very low. Not really designed for someone well over six and a half feet tall.

Wolf turned to look at Max, "It is. We might wind up doing nothing, we might wind up going after the people in country who are behind all this recent rioting. The guy paying us doesn't want the UK to go under, but some of it may slide into chaos, much like France and Greece and to some extent, Poland. But he wants to keep Scotland in the game."

Max pointed out that he'd seen news reports that a lot of immigrants, legal and otherwise, were heading south, into England proper. "I guess the Scots would rather they were elsewhere," he said.

Wolf added, "Yup, their benefits are drying up, seems the Scots are tired of paying for their uninvited guests. As one of their MPs said the other day, if London wants them, London can pay for them."

Fuji spoke up again, "You didn't answer my question, boss. What's our role here?"

"MacDonald and the President are old friends apparently. The big bossman told me that MacDonald could be trusted. If he asks us to do something, then it's something that absolutely needs doing."

Max nodded, "Got that Fuji? Sounds like a 'blow shit up and kill people' sort of mission."

Charlie looked up from his comm gear, "My favorite kind."

Gordon was looking over MacDonald's shoulder, "Are we absolutely sure about this?"

MacDonald stepped back from the maps on the table, "Yes, my source in Whitehall say that these bastards are paying for all of this unrest. And they're in this house in Glasgow, sitting pretty and feeling rather untouchable. They can see the Chinese Consulate from their bedroom windows!"

"And?" Gordon looked worried.

"I think we should ask Mr. Wolf and his lads to pay those chaps a visit."

"Won't that raise a stink?"

"Rather what we want, isn't it? Let the other side know that we're not playing."

Gordon nodded, he almost felt sorry for the people MacDonald was going to target.

Almost.

¹ A soft, round woolen hat with a rolled brim that can be pulled down over the ears in cold weather. Originally from the Hindu Kush region, it is widely worn by Tajiks, Pashtuns, and Nuristanis.

Borrowing from the Bangles

Okay folks! It's been another exciting week so far!  So,  "Off we go into the wild blue..." You know the rest, in fact you're probably humming the tune right now as you read this.  

So, juvat, what's going on for you to be so excited this week? Well...Tuesday I get a PET scan. One's gotta look forward to that!

No Beans, I'm not taking the dogs to the vet.  No, Mrs J is taking me to the Doc.  A PET scan is a Positron Emission Tomography.  

 

So, you lay down on the two bars and stick your head into the toilet bowl.  They flush it and it takes pictures of the inner working of your noggin. 

That clears things up a lot doesn't it?  Just kidding of course.  It detects early signs of cancer, heart disease and brain conditions.  In my situation those conditions are ordered in increasing likelihood.  My short term memory is horrible since the accident and my heart caused the accident so...

We've also had a bit of a vehicle problem.  Our only vehicle, Mrs J’s car, ran over a nail and we didn't notice it until the next morning when the tire was flat as a pancake.  Got out the spare and the jack and never having had to use it on this car, found out that the wrench head didn't fit the nuts on the wheel.  Since we bought the car used, we think the prior owner just went to WalMart and bought a tire iron.  Hadn't needed it until we did!

Well...Fecal matter!

So, finally gave up and called a service to come and change the tire.  The service guy showed up 15 minutes later and I hear his power tool turning lug nuts.  15 minutes after that, he drove off.  

Mission complete!  We're taking the flat tire to Costco to replace along with the other 3 that are approaching end life.  So be it.

 That's the highlights for this week. (I hope and pray!)  We shall see what will be.  In the meantime, I think I'll go back in time to a song I kinda like.  Hope you do also.

 

 

Peace out y'all! 

Ashore

U.S. Army Photo

It had been a rough ride in, but the entire team made it, along with all of their equipment. Wolf was nervous, nothing had gone wrong yet. He always expected something to go wrong, when it didn't it felt like the pending catastrophe had just been pushed down the line a bit. Something always went wrong, at least that was his experience and he had a lot of that.

He had left the Army when the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq had wound down, garrison life wasn't for him, too much chickenshit to be honest. He was a soldier, he wanted to be in the fight, not languishing at some Stateside base under some career lunatic who only cared about his next promotion.

So he'd got out, the existing security companies didn't suit his style, so he started his own outfit. It wasn't long before he'd secured a number of contracts and a reputation for getting things done.

Security for senior businessmen and politicians traveling to dangerous areas of the world was one thing, this mission was something else altogether.

"They move well, don't they?"

Alistair Stewart handed the night vision set to his colleague, Seamus MacDuff, who surveyed the area of the beach below their position atop the bluff.

"Indeed, they have excellent noise discipline and it's bloody obvious that this is not the first time they've done this. Shall we make contact?"

"Paddy Riley's down there. Wolf is expecting someone to meet him on the beach, Paddy is there for just that purpose."

MacDuff was surprised to see the boats the men had come in on head back out to sea after unloading. Certainly saved them the trouble of hiding the small craft. That had been one aspect of the plan that had worried him. The beach was very open, almost no vegetation to be seen. They would have had to haul the boats off somewhere or leave them to be found by some beachcomber. Seemed that Wolf had really thought this through.

Wolf saw the winking light through his NVGs, he readied his weapon as he walked toward the light.

"Albatross," he hissed into the night.

"Ancient mariner," came the proper reply.

In the dim starlight Wolf could see that the man who stood up to greet him was a rather large fellow. Had to be at least six foot five or more.

"You Wolf?" the man's voice rumbled from his chest.

"The same, you are ...?"

"Paddy Riley, I'm the welcoming committee, my boss and his 2IC are up on the bluff."

Wolf heard "two aye see" and realized that the man meant the second in command, what he'd call the XO, that whole 'separated by a common language' theme seemed to be in force.

"Transport?"

"Yes, couple of lorries stashed nearby."

Wolf nodded, fortunately he'd worked with the Brits in the past so he knew what a lorry was. Why couldn't they just call it a truck?

Wolf's team of fifteen men were riding in the two trucks, heading for Edinburgh. He was sitting in the cab of one vehicle with the man who was his employer's liaison with Wolf's team. Guy's name was Stewart and Wolf looked at him expectantly.

"I suppose you want the details of why you're here, Mr. Wolf."

"That would be nice, fifteen men isn't enough to overthrow a government but it's enough to make a lot of trouble in a country where everyone has been disarmed."

"Well, not everyone, but yes, your average citizen is not going to take up arms. Can't even own a bloody kitchen knife without the proper sort of license. You're not here to overthrow a government, you're here to help establish a new country. Well, to assist in the rebirth of an old country to be exact."

Wolf shook his head, "Scottish independence? Is that why we're here?"

"In a nutshell, yes. But the government in London isn't the only obstacle to that."

"Your rather large population of 'refugees' is another I take it." Wolf had practically spit the word refugee out of his mouth.

"Indeed. They are why Scotland wishes to break away, there's a reason why London is now known as Londonistan. The mob rules down there and in many of the major cities. We have the problem in Glasgow but the further north you go the fewer of that lot are about. The United Kingdom is turning into a third world country and we, in Scotland, want no part of that."

Wolf nodded, "So we're hired guns, muscle you can use to intimidate the bolder of those who might oppose you?"

"Oh dear, Mr. Wolf, not at all. We don't want you to intimidate them, we want you to kill them."

A Rainy Night in Scotland

Source

MacDonald nodded and said, "I see. Well, thank you for letting me know."

Setting the phone down he walked over towards the fireplace, the man sitting on the sofa looked at him, one eyebrow arched. The man wanted to ask, but knew better than to break the silence.

MacDonald sat heavily in the armchair and looked towards the night outside. Rain was still falling, occasionally the wind would shift and drive that rain hard against the window panes, as if someone had just thrown a handful of pebbles at the glass.

"They said no."

Gordon sighed and sat back against the sofa, "No? Just like that, no. I don't suppose ..."

"There is no argument I could make which would change the man's mind. You know what he's like. That business in the Gulf has them tied down for the moment. They've just squeaked through another contentious election and he's got a lot of house cleaning to do. He can't spare the money or the resources to help us."

Gordon stood up and began to pace, "Sure, we've made our bed and now ..."

"At least not publicly ..."

Gordon stopped in midstride, "What are you saying?"

"What I'm saying is technically treason, but it's the only chance we've got. The only choice really."

"What in God's name are you talking about, Mac?"

"Mercenaries, men we'd have to pay for ourselves, but not right away. The man said that he'd front us the money to get, as he put it, the party started."

Gordon shook his head, he had never gotten used to the way the Americans phrased things. Most of their upper leadership spoke the way a European would, nuanced and polite on the surface, but the man in charge over there now was something of an anomaly. His predecessor had been a bull in a China shop at times but he knew how to conduct business. The new fellow was altogether something else.

Gordon allowed himself a slight grin, "So the man's a cowboy after all?"

"It would seem so."

The boat surfaced some ten miles to the west-northwest of the Fife Ness Lighthouse. There was virtually no chance of being spotted by the Royal Navy, what few ships they had left were in port or in drydock. The nation which once ruled the seas barely controlled the approaches to London these days.

The captain had wanted to stay submerged, "All we need to do is raise the radio mast, there's no need to expose my boat to ..."

The passenger had overruled the captain, "I understand, Sir. But my boys need to get a feel for the seas and the wind. It's a bit of a haul in our small boats from ten miles out. If the signal comes in and it's a 'go,' we'll be on our way and you can slip beneath the waves. But if the weather is shite, I'll need to see that first hand."

The OOD let the captain know that the lookouts were in place on the sail, "Heavy swells, light rain, but not a lot of wind. Manageable for our visitors, barely."

"Con, radio," came over the speaker near the captain's head.

"Captain here, report."

"Signal received, dogsbody is a go. Repeat, dogsbody is a go."

"Understood."

Before the captain could say another word, his passengers were in motion, getting their gear topside and making preparations to head for land. As their commander brushed past him, the captain reached out and grabbed the man's sleeve.

"Godspeed."

Special operator Martin Wolf (a pseudonym), nodded and said, "Thanks for the lift." Then disappeared through the after hatch.

"Sir, what the hell is going on?" the XO sounded pissed off, he had not liked the mission when it had been explained to him two days out of Norfolk. He liked it even less now that he realized that they were putting armed men ashore on the coast of their closest ally, without their knowledge.

"The less you know the better, Mike. Prepare to get underway as soon as our passengers have departed."

"Aye, Captain, but ..."

"Enough Mike, talk to Chaps, I've heard enough. I'll be in my cabin."

Author's Note: Bit of an experiment really, we'll see where this goes. The idea has been camped out in my head for a few days now, time to get on with it I suppose.