I led a few kidnapping missions myself until I had an experienced cadre that could train others. So first, you need to know the target’s address and routine. My preference was to kidnap guys early in the morning when they just woken up to take a leak. Outhouses are standard over there, and they were usually shared by a dozen or more people. I’d hide in the bushes with two guys while another would stand as a look out. When the target entered the outhouse, we’d leave the tree line, wait outside the outhouse door, and grab the guy as soon as he came out. I would usually put a bag over the target’s head from the front while another of my guys came up behind and choked with a wire just enough to prevent screaming while the other grabbed the target’s hands and cuffed them behind his back. While that was going on, the lookout would pull up in car, open the trunk and we’d toss the target in. After some practice we could do all that in about a minute. The lookout would speed away and the other three of us would split up and find other ways to get back to the outpost.
The interrogations were pretty easy. There was no torture or yelling. I’d just cock a pistol, hold it to the target’s head, and say: “answer all my questions truthfully and you’ll live. If not, your body will never be found.” That last threat had a particular cultural importance in Vietnam because there was a widespread belief, even among communists, that if a person is not buried within a day or two after death, they become a hungry ghost, roaming the earth forever, and torment the living. There was a psychological warfare campaign that used a spooky noise machine in an attempt to intimidate the enemy. Operation Wandering Soul was the name of it. I doubt it had much of an effect though. The war was full of expensive, complicated plans with multiple single points of failure. I was left wondering what the hell the generals were smoking. The phrase pipe dream is reference to the vivid dreams and hallucinations that come from smoking opium, though I never experienced any such thing myself from opium.
With Charlie on the ropes in the Central Highlands, Truman decided it was time for me to work my magic elsewhere. He called me into his office out of the blue.
“Well soldier, whatever we’re paying you, it’s clearly not enough. How are you feeling?”
“Locked, cocked, and ready to rock sir. As always.”
“Good to hear. You have a ton of leave saved up. Why not use some? Get some R & R.”
At this point, I was beginning to worry that Truman suspected I was using drugs to cope. Fortunately, in those days, guys only got tested on the way back home after your tour was over and even if you pissed hot, they’d falsify the results if they liked you and you asked nicely. Getting drafted sucked enough, why twist the knife and make it harder for returning troops to get a job?
“I bring it up because we got something special for you and we need you in top form. Please don’t make me order you to take a vacation.”
“I guess I could check out some of the local sights here, then Hawaii, then visit my dad back home.”
“Outstanding idea. Here, fill out these forms and I’ll have all approved by 0900 tomorrow. You don’t even need to stop by to kiss me goodbye, just get the hell out of that outpost for a while. Dismissed!”
I found an empty desk nearby and filled out the forms. God, I hate paperwork. It’s always ten times more complicated than it needs to be, and often for the sole purpose of justifying someone else’s bullshit job. Pardon my French. I say it’s been proven with mathematical certainty that if paperwork killed enemy, there wouldn’t be any left given the amount the Army shuffles around.
My first stop was Hue, the old capital of Vietnam and full of lovely old buildings. And lots of very enthusiastic and enterprising prostitutes. They seemed shocked that a young GI was more interested in contemplating the Perfume River. What can I say? Sometimes it’s fun to play hard to get. Once in a while, I’d tell a hooker in Vietnamese something like “sorry, but I have a wife back home”. Lying to strangers about harmless things can be great fun. I suppose it is one of my little guilty pleasures. It’s cheaper than gambling and more exciting than stamp collecting.
How I loved Hawaii. I took a helicopter ride around the active volcano Kilauea and basked later on the sands of Waikiki. I felt so at peace. Later, I caught a military transport plane bound for the base in Martinsburg, West Virginia. Not too far away from where I grew up. Before I boarded, I bought a bottle of whiskey from the PX and gulped it all down. Upon landing, some MP was kicking me in the ass to wake me up. He had a partner.
“Rise and shine, war hero. You look drunk off your ass.”
“Hey man, go easy. This guy looks like spec ops or something.”
It was my turn to speak.
“Good morning, gentlemen. Please forgive my lack of soldier bearing. I’ve been through a lot and am now on leave from Vietnam.”
I then showed my leave papers to the MPs.
“OK, tough guy. These look legit. Get the hell out of here or I’ll toss your candy ass in the stockade. Also, shave and get a haircut. You’re way out of regs.”
I grabbed my duffel bag and left.
I hitchhiked for a bit to get back to Jefferson County, then called my dad from a pay phone.
“Hi, dad. I’m back in town and need a ride. Can’t wait to see you again.”
My dad came to where I was. How wonderful it was to see him again. We stopped to buy a case of beer. He knew what was coming next.
When we got home, we both took a beer. He spoke first.
“Son, there are things I can tell you now that I couldn’t tell you when you were younger. You’re a man now and have been to war. I can see it in your eyes.”
I didn’t think my eyes looked that fierce at the time, but you can’t see your own face unless you spend a lot of time looking in a mirror.
My brother came home from his first tour and our dad went to wake him up by shaking his leg. Next thing our dad knew, he was facing someone wide awake, standing on the bed and holding a knife in between them.
My two brothers and I would sit around and tell anecdotes of the humorous or unusual events that we could laugh at. Oldest bro was Inf, middle guy was artillery. Since I was Signal Corps my stories were more like going into town and eat in a restaurant. The middle one came to see me once, I took him to the PX, all they had available was 5 to 1 martini mix. I got him a a bottle of that (he didn’t have a ration card for booze) and a 12 pack carton of Mennen aftershave. They rarely shaved on the brown water artillery boats but occasionally went ashore to get cleaned up.
I’ve enjoyed these Derpy. How has Hollywood not made an origin story for Rambo yet?
I think part of the character’s charm is the aura of mystery. When I was writing this, I tried to give him a plausible background. Jack Reacher’s past is shrouded in mystery too.
Here’s a scene from a war movie that tells it from the Vietnamese perspective:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJ7nEYvc65E
I would say that the perspective was ridiculous, but I’ve seen 80’s movies where every Russian or Vietnamese was evil.
The gas masks were a nice touch and also a convenient way to get around the lack of white extras. 55 Days at Peking was filmed in Spain, and they practically rounded up every male Asian in Spain and Portugal to film it.
The movie version should be called “The Derpynomicon.”
I did write the Derponomicon back in 2014:
https://platedlizard.blogspot.com/2014/05/the-derponomicon-part-1.html
Parts of it have been posted on Glibs. It’s based on my conversations with a Chicago prog who turned out to be a registered sex offender. He went on a multi-year groping spree in his 20s near Northwestern University. He’s one of the dumbest and most vile people I’ve ever met. That is the reason I saw no harm in metaphorically pounding him into the ground like a tent peg.
Is the Church rolling left and dying?
https://www.newsweek.com/pope-francis-us-catholic-church-ideology-faith-1822802
They got themselves a commie pope. What did they think was going to happen?
Idjits.
There was a time when the pope could be counted to be against leftism and related stupidity. That era has passed it seems.
Well, there’s always these guys: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cvl_J_Qn5JM
Some of the TFP videos have amusing clashes.
One of favorite images, crowd gathered for a papal mass in Gdansk: https://www.politico.eu/wp-content/uploads/2018/05/GettyImages-51397266.jpg
one more: https://chrisniedenthal.com/us/works/papiez-jan-pawel-ii-w-gdansku-1987
lol Now do Africa. I bet he is afraid to.
Earlier today someone posted a Solzhenitsyn quote that resonated with me.
“Only those who decline to scramble up the career ladder are interesting as human beings. Nothing is more boring than a man with a career.”
It seems I’ve been unconsciously following that advice. It’s taken me to interesting places, that’s for sure.
That quote certainly seems to be more true than not. In my personal experience, it seems that to be successful in a corporate environment, conformity is, to a point, a must. Individuality is for when you aren’t at work, and even then there must be some shared interests, to be in the in group. Sports, drinking, whatever. The nonconformist is a weirdo.
Probably why I like wierdos.
I’m guessing neither of you work in IT.
You can be both successful and weird in IT.
And have a perfectly cromulent, satisfying career without having to “scramble up the career ladder”.
Yep yep yep.
Still an individual contributor. Doing interesting things. Doing well.
Same.
I just got a verbal handshake from Boss to start a nice little proof of concept for our next big project.
Meanwhile he’s got another half dozen one-on-one calls to do today lol
This was fantastic.
I quite enjoy the internal character references I (imagine I) share with ’em. I wonder how I’d have done over there in every different circumstance. Now, I know the Army would/could never accept me. But back-in-the-day, before The Incident and hip fun, what capacity/where/how I’d be ‘placed.’
I’d certainly earn the rep of ‘Reliable Procurer of Hookers and Opium’ in the platoon. The latter, I know. The former, can easily find and window shopping sure is fun, but I’ve… kinda never finished the transaction myself.
If you have a college degree, they would have pushed you into officer training. You seem like 68W (medic) type to me based on the ones I knew, or maybe 35M (interrogator).
With WW3 looming, who knows? They’re pretty desperate for warm bodies as it is. The Army is a highly structured environment, and it seems that would clash with your personality. I wanted to learn Arabic so badly I was able to roll with it somehow.
I’m sure officer trainer, it’d be. Before the titanium+, I still like to think I’d be behind-the-lines espionage.
I also imagine I’d have many ponies.
One of the Vietnamese customs is to return to where they are from, dead or alive. My MIL died in TX, cremated and a family ceremony in CA sometime later. Then my BIL and family went on a charter boat with several other VN folks, each carrying their loved one’s ashes. At a certain point the ashes were pitched overboard and the traditional belief is/was that the ashes would ultimately end up in VN. My BIL died in CA and I think the ceremony was held by his widow and two sons.
They also take photos of the deceased, something that many of us would find unusual.
My wife is not really into those beliefs, our plan is to donate our bodies to science, in the hope that there may be some useful parts (doubtful) that may be reusable. Maybe some educational benefits can be found.
“They also take photos of the deceased, something that many of us would find unusual.”
I’m weirded out by it, but it was quite common 100 years ago. Meh, I suppose.
My body would be very useful to science, if only for curiosity’s sake. I’d like to have a contest to see who is the most accurate in regards to the what/hows of my (mostly bone) skeleton and it’s state. I think Musk would be highly interested in having a chat with me, for many reasons. (His neuro-link work alone catches my interest…)
In the early days of photography, dead people were common subjects as early film required a much longer exposure time during which the subject had to remain still.
***
The invention of the daguerreotype in 1839 made portraiture commonplace, as many of those who were unable to afford the commission of a painted portrait could afford to sit for a photography session.[3]
This also provided the middle class with a way to remember dead loved ones. Before this, post-mortem portraiture was restricted to the upper class, who continued to commemorate the deceased with this new method.[4] Post-mortem photography was common in the nineteenth century.[5] As photography was a new medium, it is plausible that many daguerreotype post-mortem portraits, especially those of infants and young children, were probably the only photographs ever made of the sitters[clarification needed]. The long exposure time made deceased subjects easy to photograph.[5] The problem of long exposure times also led to the phenomenon of hidden mother photography, where the mother was hidden in-frame to calm a young child and keep them still.[6]
***
Hidden Mother Photography? Oh yeah, the opened for Iron Maiden at Lollapalooza in ’95.
Before that, death masks.
OT: has the site already relaunched? I thought it was going to be down tonight.
Tomorrow evening, per the PM Lynx.
Ohhhhh. I thought the links said tonight.
Someone get a hold of IFH and ask her how the upgrade went.
Everything is fine. Nothing to see here.
https://dailycaller.com/2024/02/05/san-francisco-police-department-northern-station-burglarized-department-issued-property-stolen/
https://youtu.be/6uFQMKW53I4
They’ll let him go if was under, what, $950?
If you’re going to San Francisco be sure to wear some flowers in your hair and a Glock somewhere it doesn’t print.
Good morning!
Brrr. 😨☕
I was gonna post a cover version, but went back to the original instead.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=bWcASV2sey0
🎶🎶
Here’s the tasty crumpet cover version: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=21DrkQAcaZQ
The pop-tart is game but she’s no Bonnie Tyler.
Strikes me as an OnlyFans girl with a relatively good voice.
“relatively” doing a lot of work there.
Definitely heard worse but her voice serves as a delivery vehicle for the tight pants and belly shirt, let’s face it.
No way, I can’t believe any woman would let herself be objectified in such a manner.
Good morning Sean, rhy, and Stinky!
Is it morning?
I apparently left all the lights on and never actually got ready for sleep, but I wasn’t awake that whole time.
I’m afraid it is, at least in EST. If you would rather identify as being in a different time zone, I wouldn’t blame you.
I’d rather go back to last night and kick myself before I made bad decisions regarding wrapping up the day.
Mornin’.
*raises a red Solo cup*
https://www.cnn.com/2024/02/06/entertainment/toby-keith-death/index.html
Well damn, RIP.
Damn indeed.
Bleh.
I just called out sick. I’ll leave the recycling locked in the bin and take it to the curb next week. It’s only cardboard, it’ll keep. (For whatever reason, if my recycling bin is unlocked, my neighbors throw trash in it.)
Hope you get a good…day’s sleep (and feel better.)
Thanks.
Though with the amount of caffiene I guzzled before making that call, I’m not sure how well I’ll rest.
Ugh. Rest up, U.
“World’s deepest cave with 7,000,ft tunnels 7x the size of The Shard where explorers have died trying to reach the bottom”
https://www.the-sun.com/news/10292737/worlds-deepest-cave-veryovkina/?utm_source=onesignal&utm_medium=web_push_notification&utm_campaign=web_push_2024-02-05
No claustrophobia here but HELL no…
Hard pass. 😳
Yeah, I’ve seen what’s down there.
Mornin’, reprobates!
Good morning, ‘patzie!
Good morning all! Good to see your smiling faces again.
Big ol’ cuppa joe down, the world is brighter. I know, I know, the Friends of DC will do everything they can to destroy our day. Just don’t let them in.
Ugh. Wreck along my way to work has traffic backed up well before my exit.
Better get a move on and start planning my alternate route. 😒
Mornin’ all