In my last blog entry I highlighted the imminent demise of the Royal Air Force. Over the next 5 years the RAF will slash its force by 25%, essential ending it as a global power projection force.

This morning’s Washington Times heralds the same forces are now at work eroding America’s military might:

...The era of American military dominance, or "Pax Americana," is dwindling as the nation loses its position far atop the global marketplace, a congressional military analyst said Wednesday...

...The new dynamic - in which the U.S. remains a world force, but does not hold the pre-eminent position it attained after World War II - is the result of global financial centers shifting to Asia, said Stephen Daggett, a defense policy and budget specialist for the Congressional Research Service...

..."It seems this administration finds massive amounts of money for bailout and [stimulus spending] but not enough to fund the basic money needed for defensive hardware and personnel," said Rep. Trent Franks, Arizona Republican.

Victor Davis Hansen had a good quote this morning, “...political influence and military power are ultimately predicated on economic strength.”

Our economic strength, like that of Great Britain, is dying as we quickly drowned in a sea of self-induced socialist debt. Only two pillars are keeping us afloat: the fact oil is traded in dollars and the might of the US military protecting the global trade system.

The dollar hangs upon a precipice; it dies overnight if the world turns to another medium for oil trading. Now, our military is about to be cannibalized to feed the socialist beast eating us all alive.

When the US military is gone, depleted in endless wars abroad and cashiered for progressive votes, it will not rise again. We will be naked before our enemies and creditors...one in the same.

The once mighty British Royal Air Force will cut 10,000 personnel, close five bases, and retire the majority of its Harrier and Tornado fighter aircraft. The RAF will reduce its flying programs, ground or mothball major weapons programs such as the Nimrod MR2, Puma helicopter, and Boeing E-3D AWACS.

These cuts are generated by the RAF itself “designed to pre-empt the savage cuts expected as part of the strategic defense review promised by whichever party wins power in next year’s general election.” According to the Times Online “Senior RAF officers believe that whichever party wins the general election it will have to make cuts to defence because of the economic situation.”

The RAF will cease to exist as a strategic force. Why?

Britain is broke. It budget deficit now runs 100 billion pounds, or over 12% of its GDP. The Pound is falling as fast as the dollar. Stand and Poor is threatening to downgrade their debt from AAA to AA. Why does this concern America?

No other European air force ranked with the RAF in its ability to project air power both regionally and globally. The British spend less than 1% of GDP on defense. They have just ceded air defense of Western Europe to the American. Under NATO, Americans are now stuck with the bill.

The UK is the literally “canary in the coal mine.”  Last year, Rep Barney Frank called for almost identical cuts in our military. This level of cuts will come to our shores. Our debt is almost $1.5 trillion, that’s the same 10% ratio as the UK. The national debt just passed $12 TRILLION. Our GDP is only $15 trillion. Translation – we are on the brink of owing more than we are worth. This is called insolvency.

Insolvent nations cannot afford world class militaries. Trading empires without power projection cannot defend their economic interests. Insolvent nations unable to defend their national interests...perish.

America’s deficit and debt are our number one national security issue.

From the Raleigh News & Observer, November 13, 2009 on Pg. 1

By Jay Price, Staff writer

KANDAHAR, Afghanistan -- As Chief Warrant Officer 3 James Woolley eased the giant Chinook down into the mud-walled compound, Special Forces troops on the ground dashed to form a perimeter to protect the helicopter, a prize target for Taliban insurgents.

The landing zone in the western Afghan province of Badghis wasn't under fire when U.S. Special Forces called for help to evacuate five wounded U.S. soldiers. But seconds after the Chinook, call sign Flipper 76, touched down, generating its trademark cloud of khaki-colored dust, the attack began.

Woolley, of Sanford, N.C., and the other pilot, Chief Warrant Officer 2 Eric Slover, of Hope Mills, noticed a puff of smoke maybe 175 yards away up a slope, and the chopper immediately lurched like a car hit in a fender-bender.

As a medic began rushing the wounded men to the rear ramp, the thin-skinned helicopter, unknown to its crew, now had a live rocket-propelled grenade aboard -- a weapon capable of disabling an armored vehicle.

The incident, which turned into one of the biggest medical evacuations of the Afghan war, occurred on Nov. 4. On Thursday, the commanders of the 82nd Combat Aviation Brigade, based at Fort Bragg, cleared the crew to tell the story of a miracle that came within inches of disaster.

The story began when two 82nd Airborne Division paratroopers, based at Fort Bragg, went missing in a river during a resupply mission.

A massive U.S.-Afghan manhunt turned into a fierce firefight with insurgents. Four Afghan soldiers, three Afghan police officers and an interpreter were killed, and 22 men were wounded, including the five Americans.

NATO is investigating whether some of the friendly casualties were a result of errant fire from U.S. aircraft that were called in to help.

The body of one missing soldier has been found.

The crew of Flipper 76 didn't know any of that when the medevac call came about 4:30 p.m. It had just finished dropping off troops and supplies at a small U.S. base nearby, along with Flipper 13, another Chinook. Flipper 13 stayed put while Flipper 76 headed for the compound, which was in a rural community with several other compounds.

A grenade to the head

The rocket-propelled grenade punched through the nose of the helicopter. It zipped between Woolley and Slover, went down a short passageway and struck the door gunner, Sgt. Roger Rathbun, in the back of his head.

The impact ripped away a palm-size chunk of his flight helmet, and propellant from the rocket scorched his neck as it deflected up into the ceiling of the cargo area. Rathbun was spun halfway around and knocked to the floor. Chinook pilots can't hear much of what's going on around them, but after hundreds of hours flying helicopters, they develop a musician's ear for any odd sound or change in the tone of their engines and rotor blades. Pilots quickly learn to recognize the "tink" of small arms fire hitting the fuselage. This hard slap and shudder was new for Woolley.

Slover, too, was startled. "What the ... was that?" he said.

Woolley saw damage to the nose of the chopper and immediately guessed that it had been struck by a rocket-propelled grenade, the weapon that brought down the helicopters in the famous Black Hawk Down battle in Somalia.

Slover was wondering why they were still alive.

"I think we both knew, even though I was trying to convince him it possibly might have been something other than an RPG, because I was trying to convince myself there was no way we had just been hit by an RPG but survived it," Slover said.

Rathbun, of Bunnlevel, up the short passageway, motioned to the pilots that he could hear them, but that his microphone had been torn away. His injuries turned out not to be serious, but he was shaken.

Then the pilots saw puffs of dust around the helicopter as the insurgents began firing small arms at them.

"The biggest thing was sort of sticking it out when they started engaging us with small arms fire," Woolley said. "Fortunately the ground guys did return fire, which helped us.

"We were kind of scrambling inside the aircraft in the front, trying to assess Sgt. Rathbun to see what his status was, and also taking a look at the aircraft to see what kind of damage we had sustained.

"All the while the ramp gunner was continuing to load casualties, and he said 'Ah, they're shooting sir, there's rounds popping,'" Woolley said. "I could see 'em, and I said, 'I know, just stick it out, and get these guys on.'"

It took maybe two or three minutes to get everything sorted out in the helicopter, call in close air support to help suppress insurgent fire, and get the other wounded men aboard, but it felt like two or three hours, Woolley said.

Then began a long odyssey to get the five wounded Americans - and later the wounded Afghan troops - to safety, and also get the dead out of the combat zone.

Would it fly?

They weren't sure the helicopter could fly. Their luck held, though, and they zoomed back to the small base nearby and put it down inside. Woolley badly wanted to know where the exit hole was and whether the RPG had hit anything vital.

When the crew couldn't find a second hole, he told them to start looking for something worse: a live grenade inside the chopper. After two or three long minutes, one of the soldiers found the grenade on the floor between a helmet bag and a set of goggles.

The pilots shut the chopper down, and Slover dashed off to find explosives experts and medical help for the wounded soldiers.

The rest of the crew started pulling the wounded off Flipper 76 and transferred them to Flipper 13 for the flight to a medical facility in Herat.

En route, they learned that the RPG had been removed, so after they unloaded the casualties they headed back. Casualties had mounted during the search for the missing paratroopers, and both choppers were needed. For the second trip, they loaded 14 wounded Afghan troops and six dead.

They headed to Herat, but there wasn't room for the wounded there, so they pushed on to another base, where they dropped off the casualties.

After a long night of flying back and forth across western Afghanistan, they headed for a small staging base.

The 82nd Combat Aviation Brigade crews are all flying a new model of the Chinook. After Flipper 76's RPG miracle, a standard joke among them now is that the new version has been equipped with a secret device that disarms enemy munitions.

Inches from death

No one had to tell the Flipper 76 crew how lucky they were. Even when a rocket-propelled grenade doesn't explode, it can tear through a person; and this one passed inches from both pilots and grazed Rathbun.

It wasn't Woolley's first brush with death. A Chinook he was flying in Iraq once took 32 bullets. Another, in an earlier stint in Afghanistan, caught several rounds in the Plexiglas windows of its bulbous nose. In 2007, he was just five helicopter lengths behind another Chinook that was hit by a Stinger anti-aircraft missile and went down, killing all five crew members and a British military cameraman who was aboard.

This time, when he got back to base he called his wife to tell her what had happened.

"Boy, you are crazy," she said. "Quit using those lives up!"

Then she asked if they'd evacuated all the wounded men. He said he had.

Woolley said Thursday that there's some question in the unit about whether flying with him is a bad idea - or really, really smart.

"Either they want to or they don't. The jury's still out on that," he said. "Either I'm lucky or I'm unlucky."

When Maj Nidal Hasan walked into the Ft. Hood deployment center and killed 13 soldiers it came as no surprise to many who knew him. Fellow Army doctors complained about Hasan’s extremists rants. ABC News reports Hasan’s radical Islamo-fascist views were so blatant US intelligence agencies investigated him months ago. The media reports Hasan contacted two of the 9/11 hijackers.  Major Hasan gave every warning imaginable he was an enemy sympathizer.

All of these warnings were ignored in the name of political correctness.Now, the bodies are buried and a nation mourns the dead. The media cannot bring itself to call Hasan a terrorist. On cue, the apologists blame America for the horrors at Ft. Hood. James Alan Fox, in this morning’s USA Today:

“But calling the Ft.Hood ambush an act of terrorism would only compound the tragedy by reinforcing the kind of intolerance toward American Muslims that appears to have contributed to Hasan’s despair.”

And statement came from Gen Casey following the attack:

"We have to be careful because we can't jump to conclusions now based on little snippets of information that come out. And frankly, I am worried -- not worried, but I'm concerned that this increased speculation could cause a backlash against some of our Muslim soldiers. And I've asked our Army leaders to be on the lookout for that. It would be a shame -- as great a tragedy as this was, it would be a shame if our diversity became a casualty as well."

Americans no longer speak truth. We make excuses for our enemies instead of confronting them. Can truth be found in America anymore, or has the poison of political correctness killed it off?

I direct your attention to the stoner comedy called “Squidbillies” appearing on Cartoon Network show Adult Swim. Okay, now that I’ve admitted I watch Adult Swim, please stop your snickering and read on.

Squidbillies is a show mocking a certain breed of southerners typically called “rednecks.” In lieu of humans, the show uses squids to make fun of the last ethnic group not protected by hate crime laws: white people. As a white male southerner, I find the show offensively hilarious and I’m not ashamed to say it. How did I get from the horrors of Ft. Hood to Squidbilles?

I’m not making light of the tragic events at Ft. Hood. This a serious commentary on the fatal stupidity of political correctness and how difficult it is to find the truth.  

Watch this 10 minute episode of Squidbilles about an alien named Lerm Edwards. He comes to earth screaming “Death to America” and destroys everything in sight. He makes not secret of who he is or his radical agenda. Yet the squidbillies and the rest of America embraces him.

Substitute “Maj. Hasan” or “radical Muslim” for “Lerm” and watch this episode of Squidbillies.

Hasan, like Lerm, screamed his equivalent to “Death to America” right up to the point “he went that way.”

Kill political correctness before it kills us all.

3. Evidence that one is associated with a hate group is defined both explicitly and as “...a person is associated or affiliated with a group associated with hate-related violence...Individuals known to have attended meetings, rallies, conferences, or other activities sponsored by a hate group. Individuals known to be involved in online activities with a hate group, including being engaged in online discussion groups or blog or other postings that support, encourage, or affirm the group’s extremist or violent views and goals. Individuals who are known to have in their possession photographs, written testimonials (including diaries or journals), propaganda, or other materials indicating involvement or affiliation with a hate group. Such materials can include photographs, written materials relating to or referring to extreme hatred that are clearly not of an academic nature, possession of objects that venerate or glorify hate inspired violence, and related materials, as determined by the Attorney General.”

4. The military will have to screen all recruits and discharge “immediately” anyone classified in accordance IAW with potential law.

This bill was pushed forward under the guise it will purge from the military (and subesquently keep out) gang members and white supremacist. Will the Attorney General apply it to radical Islamists in the military, like Nidal?

"We should not be punishing patriotic Americans who have stepped forward to serve this country," he said. "I'm working with the Pentagon, its leadership and the members of the House and Senate on ending this policy, legislation that has been introduced in the House to make this happen, I will end 'don't ask, don't tell.' That's my commitment to you."

Since the 1990s this debate has revolved around the question: can homosexuals serve without hindering military operations? This point is minor. More importantly, what will actually happen when ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ is lifted?   Regardless of where one stands on the issue, lifting the ban will surely have consequences beyond those intended. I think it post-“Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” era will play out something like this.

The public relations media blitz will come first. This phase is likely being engineered by gay activists groups now. Homosexual activists will enlist and enter the service academies (sponsored by Blue state progressive politicians). Currently serving homosexual enlisted and officers, now being groomed by activist groups, will publicly come out of the closet. Human interest stories will cover television and the internet about homosexual heroes who served valiantly while hiding who they were. There will be the story of the commander or general who served for years in fear of being ‘outed.’ They’ll be the drama of the new recruit, someone older, who always dreamed of serving but was too afraid to enlist. There will be the story of the tough-nosed battle veteran who hid his sexual orientation for years. There will be pictures of gay officers swearing in gay enlistees. This honeymoon period will last about 6 months to a year.

Next, comes the “Tailhook” moment. Eventually, America’s new homosexual heroes will complain of further persecution by the straight military culture. It may be a real incident or manufactured by an activists in uniform. A soldier may call someone “f*g” in the chow hall, or, God forbid, actual violence. Real, staged, or trumped the homosexual heroes will take on victim status. After the expected media blitz will come calls for congressional hearings into the matter. New regulations will be rushed into place formalizing military homosexuals as a permanent protected class. These regulations will include military speech codes, mandatory homosexual awareness and sensitivity training, and maybe even “Homosexual Heritage Month.” Any opposition to gays in the ranks will be silenced by hate crimes legislation and regulations. Once the “Tailhook” stage is complete the left will have a free hand implementing its social engineer agenda within the Department of Defense.

Now the Left will secure an important secondary goal of its campaign - access to the largest pool of discretionary government money and a massive host of VA entitlement programs. Gay activist will quickly push for access to commissary, exchange, medical and dental benefits for same sex “partners.” Once this is accomplished it will open up billions in VA benefits to same-sex couples, including jobs, health benefits, and education. Since homosexuality will be a protected class, expect openly gay activists to begin to fill key Pentagon positions.

With lucrative entitlements on the line the Left will push to legitimize same sex military partners. This will start with minor regulatory changes, quietly accomplished at lower levels. Eventually, it will elevate to such a point it gets public attention. By that time, the media will say, “The military has already granted X and Y benefits to military same-sex partners, legislation will just formalize it.” This softens the debate for gay, lesbian, bisexual and trans-gendered (GLBT) marriage in the military.

The military is highly sought by the Left as a social laboratory for two reasons: the ease of implementing social policy by executive decree upon a captive population; and as a gateway to the rest of the federal government. Though an executive pen stroke the military will recognize gay marriage, then the rest of the federal government will fall in line. What was once state issue will transform to a federal civil rights issue overnight. Any state denying benefits to same-sex military couples will be dragged into federal civil rights court. The left will have won a tremendous victory in the culture war.

And so begins the final, and ultimate goal, of the Left... the fundamental transformation of America’s most effective government institution - and its most conservative. The Left views the military as a hostile political entity and want to fundamentally transform it. They still remember Florida in the 2000 presidential campaign, where many Democrats still believe the military vote tipped the scales for Bush over Gore. By 2000 42 percent of all military recruits were from the south, followed by the west, with an ever declining number of people from the more liberal northeast and west coast. In a 2006 Military Times Poll, 50% conservative or very conservative, 56% Republican, and 59% said no to gays serving in the military. Hence, the Left’s transformation of the military will begin with its Christians.

 Over 40 percent of the military, including 60% of its chaplains are evangelical Christians. When openly opposing the homosexual lifestyle in the military becomes hate speech, these evangelicals will have only two choices: silence or resignation. Over the course of one generation evangelical Christians may vanish from the service and take their ethics, mores, and sense of duty with them. They will likely discourage their children from military service as well. With the loss of this major institution, conservatives will be further marginalized within American society.

What will the military look like then? It’s unsure, but if it gravitates towards the Left it will become more political, not less. Other fringe Left-wing movements, seeing the successful strategy employed by the GLBT movement, will also try to use the military as a legitimizing force. These progressive movements will quickly move to tap streams of defense funding and infiltrate the Defense Department. Eventually, the military, like all institutions taken over by progressives, will be besieged with so many social mandates military considerations will take a back seat to social engineering and wealth redistribution.

The US military works and the American public knows it. 69% of Americans have a great deal confidence in the U.S. military. The GLBT’s agenda for the military will have repercussions far beyond the issues of “fairness” and whether gays are fit for combat. It exposes the military, a critical and highly functional institution, to social forces which may tear it apart and transform it into something which won’t serve the best interests of America. 

Author’s note: This blog entry has nothing to do with politics. This entry is strictly military in nature and pure self-indulgence.. This one goes to the heart of why I blog at Townhall...I needed a safe place to store my ideas where I can be sure no one will read them (ha ha) 

Recently, I asked an Air Force captain, master sergeant, senior airman and first lieutenant a simple question, "What is an Airman?" No one could give me a sure answer. Proud members of the most powerful military force on earth could not clearly define who they were. This irritated me. With an official definition like this, I can’t blame them for being confused:  

Air Force Doctrine defines an airmen as “those people who formally belong to the US Air Force and employ or support some aspect of the US Air Force’s air and space power capabilities. The term airman is often used in a very narrow sense to mean pilot. An airman is any person who understands and appreciates the full range of air and space power capabilities and can employ or support some aspect of air and space power capabilities.”

According to this, my dead grandma was an Airman (as she supported some aspect of air and space capabilities when she sent me money at college). This definition was likely penned by a committee, lawyers, or both. It’s unfit for a military service.

What is an Airman? Here’s my definition.

 An Airman is a technologist who converts the fruits of America’s technological base into instruments of Airpower. Technology is his sword and shield and is why he identifies himself with his technology; whether it’s an aircraft, weapons system, or career field. He gleans the best his nation has to offer in every scientific field and forges them into instruments of Airpower. If you ask him, “What is your requirement?” he’ll always responds, “The newest, the fastest, the highest, the boldest, and the best.” If his nation cannot provide a technological answer to match his requirement, he’ll create it himself. With Airpower he carries the battle to the enemy.

An Airman is a professional warrior who wields Airpower to dominate battle-space, from the earth’s surface to the reaches of outer space, as if he were the hand of the Almighty himself.   

This is not a boast, it’s a simple truth because an Airman is the most powerful force on earth other than God or Mother Nature. In the hands of professional American Airmen, Airpower seems like divine magic to an enemy. He is the deadly lighting and the terrible thunder from a blue sky. Invisible, he roams at will, unseen, high over an adversary. He knows every inch of the planet though sensors unseen. The darkness is his playground. From the heart of CONUS he can be anywhere in the world in matter of hours (or minutes), delivering precision death without warning. With a single bomb he can surgically kill a dictator or he can level a city. He delivers manna from heaven upon silken chutes and sends angels of mercy upon whirling helicopter blades. 

An Airman is always a flyer. It doesn’t matter what badge he wears or if he actually flies as part of his job, because without him Airpower cannot be forged or employed. His first love is the sky. It’s where he lives, even when he is on the ground. And it’s where he fights, even when he’s earthbound.  

An Airman is the ultimate expression of his nation’s will. A navy carrier is often placed off an unfriendly coast as a political warning. Soldiers and Marines may be sent as peacekeepers. Airmen are only sent to crush the enemy...completely. This is why the Air Force is known as the “knock-down-the-door force.” When the bombers are launched it means negotiations are over. When contrails appear over an enemy capital it means the war is over. The Air Force is the most serious expression of America’s will. When the Airman is brought into play all hope within the enemy dies. The Airman is the Alpha and Omega of modern warfare.

According to this morning’s New York Times, Vice President Biden favors this approach to Afghanistan:

...Rather than try to protect the Afghan population from the Taliban, American forces would concentrate on eliminating the Qaeda leadership, primarily in Pakistan, using Special Operations forces, Predator missile strikes and other surgical tactics. The Americans would also accelerate training of Afghan forces and provide support as they took the lead against the Taliban.

This counterterrorism strategy, as opposed to a counterinsurgency strategy, is predicated on the theory that the real threat to American national security lies in Pakistan, not Afghanistan. Some call this proposal the “Pakistan First” option.

Vice President Biden is advocates isolating Afghanistan, monitoring and striking from above using drones, and sending in special operations teams when needed to kill or capture terrorists.  I don’t think “Pakistan First” is appropriate, and prefer dubbing it the “Escape from New York” (or maybe the “Escape from Afghanistan”) strategy.

Escape from New York, the 1981 motion picture starring Kurt Russell, is the story of a future where crime is out of control. The government, unable to cope with the situation, isolates Manhattan Island as a prison for America’s criminals. The inmates are free to roam at will within the city, but automated security systems kill anyone trying to escape. Contingency special operations teams are on standby for “surgical strikes”. In the movie, Air Force One crashes in the city and the special teams are powerless to save the president. The government must send in Snake Plisken (Kurt Russell), a rouge special operations soldier sentenced to death, to save him.

First, this isn’t Biden’s strategy. They’re calling it “Biden’s Strategy” so, when it fails it won’t taint the president. And it will fail. This plan is fundamentally flawed in every aspect.

Biden is not a military strategists. General McCrystal is, and knows what needs to be done: boots on the ground, territory secured, friends protected, and enemies killed. The only plausible objective is to deny Afghanistan as a base and breeding ground for terrorists and insurgents.

McCrystal also understands the Afghan government and military will always be corrupt. We need to work within this reality and we’ can’t do this remotely.

The Taliban and Al Qaeda are fighting a total war. If we continue to fight a limited war we will lose. It doesn’t matter how good our special ops teams are, how many drones we have buzzing over the country, nor how much we try to reform the Afghan government. The enemy will ruthlessly adapt and overcome whatever we throw at them. On the contrary, bad guys can’t adapt if they are dead. The dead can’t recruit new members.   

The Biden Strategy is a double whammy of failure. Not only does it essential cede the ground to the enemy, it’s cornerstone of containment is ludicrous. One cannot contain Afghanistan. It’s the worst possible terrain on the planet for a containment strategy. 

A writer once said “Afghanistan is the land of a thousand Alamos”. When they build a house or settlement, the very first structure is always the wall. They are born with a siege mentality. If we build a virtual wall around them they won’t even notice. Their mountains are walls, and they have no problem scaling them. We will be unable to keep them in or keep them out. The terrorists will move through our containment like a sieve and spread across the world like a plague.

Finally, relying on Pakistan to route out Taliban and Al Qaeda in the Waristan region has been, and will continue to be, a failure. This is for the same reasons the Northern Alliance let the Taliban and Al Qaeda slip away in the early days of the conflict: local political needs, corruption, and tribal blood. In the end, it will be America’s responsibility alone to kill our own enemies. You can’t outsource victory.

No, Snake Plisken can’t save the day for us. It’s going to take real soldiers and Marines, in every village, in every city, in ever mountain pass. We will have to chase them into Pakistan. We will have to chase them to hell, if necessary.

Unfortunately, the administration’s “Escape from Afghanistan Doctrine” is really just that...escape.

This is not an American battle? 3000 Americans died on 9/11. America was attacked on her own soil by enemies based and supported from Afghanistan. Americans were killed in New York, Pennsylvania, and WashingtonD.C.  

American's are grateful to our NATO allies, who make up about 1/2 of the manpower in Afghanistan and have sustained over 500 dead on the battlefield. GOD BLESS YOU. Your great sacrifices are deeply appreciated and needed.  As an American what I'm saying is this: If not one NATO country joined us we would still be there fighting.

Conflicts are defined by the people who actually fight them (not by the politicians or historians) not by who they fight with, but why they fight. In World War II, the Brits thought of the war as a British battle, the Poles thought it was a Polish battle, and the Russians thought if it as a Russian battle, and so on, even as they fought side-by-side with allies. The fact they fought a common foe with allies didn't change the nature of why they fought, for soil and blood. We fight for American soil and American blood. I'm sorry, Mr. President, but it is an American battle and will remain that way long after our NATO allies pack up and go home.

This would be obvious to most common Americans. Why isn’t it obvious to the commander-in-chief?

Several pieces of news caught my eye over the past week. Two were public opinion polls, one was an op/ed piece by conservative columnists George Will, and another op/ed article by liberal columnist Bob Herbert.

Polls by CBS and USA Today/Gallup state half of Americas oppose sending more  troops to Afghanistan, even though General McCrystal, commander of forces in Afghanistan, states without them we risk defeat. In fact, 32% of Americans think US forces should be decreased. Popular support for the mission in Afghanistan is profoundly eroding.

Conservative columnists George Will calls for US withdrawal. His reasons are: 1) Keep faith with the troops, 2) Nation building is impossible in Afghanistan, 3) The government there is too corrupt and democratic reforms are making things worse, 4) We don’t have enough troops to adequately apply a proper counterinsurgency strategy. Will calls for a “comprehensively revised strategy,” - a policy of isolation, containment, and use of remote technology to strike when necessary from beyond Afghanstan (I call this the “Escape From New York” strategy – keep the Taliban and Al Qaeda bottled up and isolated in Afghanistan using UAVs and airpower). 

Liberal columnist Bob Herbert calls for withdrawal because most Americans 1) Don’t know where Afghanistan is, 2) Don’t care to find out, 3) Are too preoccupied with the economy, 3) Believe the war has no impact on terrorism, 4) Many people were too young when 9/11 happened to really care, 5) Have a skewed concept of what war really is, shaped by Hollywood and not reality, 6) Are not prepared for what is required to sustain a prolonged counterinsurgency. Herbert offers no options other than to “explore creative alternatives to endless war and bring the weary troops home.”

The conservative says ,“Victory is not possible with resources at hand. Isolate the enemy and send in Snake Pliskin” The liberal says, “Americas are too dumb, distracted, ignorant, misinformed, unprepared and fickle to do the job. Let’s sit around and come up with a different solution.”

Regardless of their arguments, both say its time to bring the troops home. For various reasons, 50% of the American public agrees.

These facts I know:

1. On September 11, 2001 almost 3000 American’s were killed by Al Qaeda, led by Osama Bin Laden. Our nation sustained a direct attack in the heart of our government, financial, and cultural centers.

2. Al Queda was based in Afghanistan, under the protection of their Taliban allies.

3. Over 850 Americans have died in Afghanistan trying to destroy our enemies.

4. Al Qaeda, Bin Laden, and Osama Bin Laden are all still there.

How do I define victory in Afghanistan?

1. Our enemies are dead.

2. No one will join their cause because they know they will die, too.

3. No one will fund and supply them, because they know they will die, too.

4. There is no nation building, there is no “hearts and minds” strategy, there is no “democratization process.”

5. America is feared by our enemies, without doubt, reservation or compromise.

Before there was a Marshall Plan, there was Dresden, Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The Germans and Japanese never saw the “hearts and minds” until they saw they “shock and horror.”

Eight years after 9/11, will this definition of victory be discussed in a “comprehensively revised strategy?” I doubt it.

Where am I going with this? In this forum I’ve warned of the impacts of further defense cuts on our ability to defend out national interests abroad. I think I’ve been wrong all these years. It doesn’t matter if we increase our military 10-fold and buy every weapon system the Pentagon says it needs. It’s all irrelevant. All the weapons in the world are useless if there is no will to use them to achieve victory. Maybe we are a fickle, unserious people – unwilling to bring those crush those who murdered our men, women and children. 

No amount of “creative alternatives” or “comprehensively revised strategy” can bring victory to a people unwilling to defend their own vital national interest, let alone avenge their dead. We cannot stomach our own power or place in the world. Our enemies know this, even if we don’t.  Their policy is comprehensive - total victory. Their means are creative, as 9/11 clearly showed. We waffle and rationalize while our enemies fight a blood feud to the end.

Lose Afghanistan, lose our future. May our children forgive us for the bleak future we’re bequeathing them.

Its 2012 and G.I. Joe has returned from fighting America’s enemies in Afghanistan and Iraq. His mission is unfinished and he doesn’t know why he’s been summoned home. Fresh off the airplane, he finds himself in an empty airport. No welcoming committee meets him. In a corner of the vacant airport sits Government Man, disheveled and asleep, holding a hand-printed placard like a limo driver. On it are the words “American Soldier.”

G.I. Joe walks up to him. His boots, fresh with the dust of war, echo ghostlike across the deserted concourse. He moves to wake the man up but steps back. The man reeks of stale alcohol, his face is unshaven and his hair un-kept. Government Man’s tie is half loosened and his shirt stained with beer and wine. G.I. Joe, though gaunt and tired from a decade of combat, is clean shaven and professional. He shakes his head with disgust and nudges Government Man.

G.I. JOE: Hey, buddy, wake up. Wake up!

GOVERNMENT MAN: Uh…what? Where am I?

G.I. JOE: You’re at the airport. I assume by your sign you’re here to give me a lift back to base.

Government man turns the sign around and eyes it though confused, bloodshot eyes. After a few seconds awareness dawns on him.

GOVERNMENT MAN: ohhhh…right. That’s right.

G.I. JOE: Maybe you can tell me why I was called back? There’s still lots of work to do back there in Iraq and Afghanistan.

GOVERNMENT MAN: (runs his hands through his hair and tries not to make eye contact with the soldier) Yea, about that…

Government Man tries to get up and almost falls forward. G.I. Joe catches him and prevents him from falling on his face.

G.I. JOE: Slow down there, cowboy! Are you okay, man? You look like you had a pretty good time last night.

GOVERNMENT MAN: (gains his balance and laughs) You have no idea! Man, I was at the best party, I swear. Chicks, booze, it seemed to last forever.

G.I. JOE: Sounds great. Where was it?

GOVERNMENT MAN: (smiling and animated) It was everywhere, brother! Coast-to-coast and glorious! Non-stop, man, non-stop! And it was all free! A bunch of guys from Wall Street paid for it all. All I had to do was vote their way on a couple of bills and they kept the money flowing. 

G.I. JOE: (smiles sheepishly, almost embarrassed) Uh, sounds great. Funny, I didn’t hear about it but then again I’ve been gone for almost nine years. Maybe I’ll check it out later when my work is done, but I really need to get back to the war zone. So, can you tell me why I’m here?

GOVERNMENT MAN: Uh…well, you’re not going back.

G.I. JOE: (confused) What do you mean ‘you’re not going back?’ The job isn’t finished. We’re making real progress in Iraq and the Taliban and Al Qaeda is still making trouble in Afghanistan.

GOVERNMENT MAN: Well, ya see, I sorta spent all our money on the party.

G.I. JOE: You what??!!

GOVERNMENT MAN: It’s not my fault! I swear! Wall Street Man said he’d take care of everything. I trusted him. I mean, that guy can seriously party. When I woke up this morning I was broke and he was gone. He double crossed me, dude! I was screwed over.

G.I. Joe walks around the waiting area, shaking his head in disbelief.

GOVERNMENT MAN: So you see, Joe, there isn’t any money to keep you in the fight. I had to call you home. Sorry, dude. I think you did a great job, though!

G.I. Joe sets his jaw, narrows his eyes and grabs his ruck sack off the floor. He marches past Government Man toward the door.

G.I. JOE: Get me back to base! If I’m not over there to stop them, those bastards will be here in no time. We have to prepare now for fresh attacks on our homeland.

G.I. Joe reached the door only to realize Government Man isn’t following him. He turns to see Government Man standing where he left him, fidgeting and wringing his hands. He marches back and puts his face inches from Government Man’s trembling face. His next words, measured and controlled, barely mask his rage.

G.I. JOE: What aren’t you telling me?

GOVERNMENT MAN: I’m broke…we’re broke. Dead broke. I…I…uhh…

G.I. JOE: (quietly) Spit…it…out.

GOVERNMENT MAN: (hurried) I gotta let you go! (closes his eyes and prays he doesn’t get hit)

G.I. Joe, silent, stands in disbelief.

GOVERNMENT MAN: I’m sorry! I’m really, really sorry! I had no choice! What little money I had left has to go toward buying votes…I mean medical supplies for all those aging Baby Boomers. Please understand, I hold you in the highest esteem and I’ve tried to support you in the past, but tough times call for tough decisions.

G.I. Joe sits down and rests his chin on his hands.

G.I. JOE: Yea, you’re a real leader. So, who’s going to defend the nation?

GOVERNMENT MAN: It’s all cool. I made some deals with the UN and our allies say they’re going to be there for us whenever we need them. Uhmm…a lot of them were at the same party I was, though. But they promised they’ll do what they can!

G.I. JOE: God help us.

GOVERNMENT MAN: God? Oh, sure, right, God. Okay, well then, it was good talking to you. I hope everything turns out okay. I’ll be leaving now, okay?

Government Man slinks past where G.I. Joe is sitting.

G.I. JOE: (calls after him) Where is everyone? This airport should be packed.

Government Man stops, hesitates, and turns around.

GOVERNMENT MAN: Everyone is sorta somewhere else.

G.I. JOE: I can see that.Where? Home?

GOVERNMENT MAN: Oh…perhaps. Some of them might still have homes, I guess.

G.I. JOE: (angry) You guess?! What the he*l is going on?!

GOVERNMENT MAN: No need to yell! They’re probably out looking for jobs… or food. This time of day, my guess is most are looking for a place to sleep.

G.I. JOE: Dear Lord, what have you done?! I know National Guardsman expecting to come home to their old jobs.

GOVERNMENT MAN: I’m sure some of them still have their old jobs. There’s a chance, anyway. A 75% chance, easy. That is unless they worked in the finance, real estate, services, manufacturing, telecommunication, computer, information technology, medical services,…uhh, I’ll stop there. Look, times are tough, what can I say?

G.I. Joe shakes with rage and stares straight ahead. He gets up, grabs his gear and starts for the door again.

G.I. JOE: I’m going to walk to base. There is no way I’m riding with you. I’ll turn in my gear, collect my pension, and start over. I’m also going to pray, pray hard for our nation.

GOVERNMENT MAN: Pray? That’s a great idea. Hey, look, about that pension…

 Joe whirls around.

G.I. JOE: What about my pension? Are you going to seriously stand here and tell me you blew my pension, too?!

GOVERNMENT MAN: No! Well, not entirely. I had to cut it, but only temporarily! I swear, I’ll pay you just as soon as I can!

G.I. Joe sits down again and puts his head in his hands.

G.I. JOE: This is a bad dream.

GOVERNMENT MAN: I know this is hard to take. I understand. Look, Joe, I’ve got a few quarters. You sit here and I’m going to get you something cold to drink. Just relax, breath, and I’ll be right back.

G.I. Joe says nothing as Government Man slinks away. Lost in thought Joe suddenly realizes almost 20 minutes have passed and Government Man hasn’t returned.

G.I. JOE: (mumbles)Little weasel probably ran off. That figures.

Joe hears whispers and murmurs floating down the hallway from the baggage area. He’s heard whispers like this before, in the dark places of the world. It’s the familiar hiss of conspiracy. He gets up and silently makes his way from shadow to shadow until he finds the source. He spies Government Man and two others. One is Chinese, dressed in an Armani suit with a communist lapel pin. The other is an Arab, dressed in the expensive robes of a Sunni oil sheik. They are handing over vast amounts of cash to Government Man. It looks like a back alley drug deal.

GOVERNMENT MAN: (in low hushed tones) That will cover Wall Street Man’s bar tab, for now anyway. Let’s get the party started!

CHINESE MAN: And this gives me controlling interest and open markets, correct?

GOVERNMENT MAN: Yea, yea. Sure.

ARAB MAN: And no drilling or nuclear plants, right?

GOVERNMENT MAN: (puts on a deep and sincere expression, shakes his head solemnly) “We can’t drill ourselves out of this crisis.” Does that sound right?

ARAB MAN: Perfect! (laughs softly). And you have G.I. Joe under control, correct?

GOVERNMENT MAN: Easy, no problems. He’ll be out of the way soon enough. Those military guys are too stupid to understand anything except brute force. Just slap them on the back and say ‘I support the troops’ and they’ll do what you tell them.

CHINESE MAN: Good, then we’ll keep in touch.

They all shake hands.

GOVERNMENT MAN: (winks) Who loves you baby! (motions with his hand like a phone and mouths ‘call me’)

Chinese Man and Arab Man slip into the shadows, wiping their hands off on their clothes. No one notices a silent shadow slip back down the concourse. With a spring in his step Government Man makes his way back to where he left G.I. Joe.

GOVERNMENT MAN: Hey, Joe, here’s…(suddenly remembers he was supposed to get Joe a cold drink)…hey, you know, the machine was all out of soda. All they had was that nasty diet stuff and I didn’t think a big, tough guy like you drank that diet crap. Any way, let me drop you off at the base, it’s the least I can do…(Government Man trails off)

G.I. Joe is sitting where Government Man left him. He’s holding an ancient parchment in his calloused, scarred hand, and silently reading it.

GOVERNMENT MAN: Whatcha got there, Joe?

G.I. JOE: This? Oh, it’s a little thing called the Constitution. I always keep it with me, folded in my right breast pocket over my heart.

GOVERNMENT MAN: (looking nervous) Wow, that’s great, Joe. Well, look, I gotta go now. So if you want to walk back to base, that’s great…

G.I. JOE: (interrupts) You know, I’ve been carrying this since I can remember. I wept on it at the Battle of First Bull Run. I carried it in the Battle of San Juan Hill and in the Ardennes. During the Battle of the Bulge I burned letters from home to keep warm before I’d burn this. I held it and read it on cold nights in Korea and hot days in Vietnam. It’s stained black with sludge from the oil fires of Kuwait and Iraq. And each time it gets stained red with my own blood.

I once showed it to a captured Taliban warlord. He said mortal men couldn’t be expected to honor a mere piece of paper. He said we were fools. I told him he was wrong. I said America had over two hundred years of proof he was wrong. The old jackal laughed and said 5000 years of experience proved he was right.

G.I Joe stands up and walks toward Government Man, steel in his eye. Government Man slowly backs away, looking behind him for an escape route, afraid.  Joe holds up the Constitution, its pages torn, singed, blacked, and covered with dried blood. The words “We the People…” are still clearly visible.

G.I. JOE: So, tell me, who was right? Was it me or the old warlord? What were you doing down the hall?

GOVERNMENT MAN: (nervous) You don’t understand. What you saw…it isn’t what it looks like!

G.I. JOE: Oh, I understand. I’ve seen it before, many times in every third world country I’ve fought. It happens where the rule of men supersedes the rule of law. It’s what happens when little men betray those who’ve they’ve been entrusted to protect. It’s what happens when men prey on their fellow countrymen.

G.I. Joe continues to steadily advance on Government Man, holding the Constitution ahead of him.

GOVERNMENT MAN: (points accusingly) Alright, I’ve had enough of this. You are WAY out of line, mister. You need to stand-down! This is above your pay grade!

G.I. JOE: (coldly, with justice in his eyes and a clear voice which rings though the abandoned terminal) I, G.I Joe, do solemnly swear I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States…

GOVERNMENT MAN: Joe, put down the Constitution! You’re not qualified to interpret it. I’m a lawyer, I know best. For God’s sake, PUT DOWN THE CONSTITUTION!

Government Man stumbles and trips. He falls backwards over waiting room chairs.

G.I. JOE: …against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same…

GOVERNMENT MAN: (pleading) What do you want? Power? I can give you that! I have friends, powerful friends! WHAT DO YOU WANT??!!!

G.I. Joe advances, unrelenting, holding the Constitution up like a cross against a vampire. He continues the incantation.

G.I. JOE:… and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice….

GOVERNMENT MAN: (blubbering in a fetal position on the floor) STOP IT! You can’t do this! Leave me alone!

G.I. JOE:…SO…

GOVERNMENT MAN: I’m a member of the ruling class!

 G.I. JOE:…HELP…

GOVERNMENT MAN: I’m one of the elites!

G.I. JOE:…ME…

GOVERNMENT MAN: I’m entitled! No!!!!!!!

G.I. JOE:…GOD.

PART II: In the last installment, G.I. Joe is unexpectedly called home from overseas by Government Man, who he finds waiting for him at the airport, disheveled and hung over from years of non-stop partying on the tax-payers dime. Government Man tells Joe he isn’t going back into combat, he’s being mustered out, and his retirement has been spent on other programs. In the deserted airport Joe learns Government Man is corrupt and is on the payroll of America’s worst adversaries. At the end of the last episode we left a furious G.I. Joe, a bloody copy of the US Constitution in his hands, looming over the cowering Government Man.

 Joe throws the Constitution on top of the whimpering bureaucrat.

G.I. JOE: Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve read that document, though I doubt you have. No, I’m going out there (points to the world beyond the airport). I’m going to spread the word about you and what you’ve done. Don’t fear me, little man. Fear them, the American people.

Joe turns and heads for the door. Government Man sits up and smiles a sly, wicked smile. His eyes narrow as he calls out after Joe.

GOVERNMENT MAN: They won’t listen to you, Joe.

Joe turns to look at Government Man, now sitting up and looking cocky.

GOVERNMENT MAN: You’re wasting your time.

G.I. JOE: I have complete faith in the American people. They’re what make us great. They’ll rise up and vote things straight. I’ll carry my message to the papers, the internet, television, and talk radio. In the light of day, you’ll be rejected.

GOVERNMENT MAN: You have been gone a long time, haven’t you Joe? Okay, have it your way. (Motions to the door) Go out there, Joe. (forms his hands in quotes) ‘Spread the word’ about me and my kind. When you come to your senses, come find me. I’ll be in Washington D.C., comfortably in power. In the end, you’ll come back to me on your knees. You’re one of us, Joe. Last I checked, the government signed your paycheck. You’re part of the machine. Out there, you’re a freak.

G.I. JOE: You’re wrong, and the government doesn't pay me anymore, right?.

Joe turns away, but feels uneasy. It’s the same feeling he gets when he’d stepping into combat right after learning the intelligence is wrong. He feels naked. 

He steps out into the sunlight. The loading zone in front of the terminal is almost vacant. Trash blows across the dirty concrete. A single taxi waits by the curb. Joe walks up and taps on the window. The back door unlocks. Joe opens it and throws his duffle bag across the seat and hops in. 

G.I. JOE: Take me to the offices of the Daily News, please.

TAXI DRIVER: (in a heavy middle-east accent) Of course, but first I must ask a few questions.

G.I. JOE: uh….like what?

TAXI DRIVER: Are you carrying any pork products or alcohol?

G.I. JOE: That’s none of your business, mister.

TAXI DRIVER: Oh, but it is. The state and federal courts have ruled I can enforce Sharia Law within the confines of my cab. They have also ruled if those around me do not respect this, they are guilty of hate speech. So, my friend, I can ask you this question and many others. I must also know if you are Jewish or have a Bible in your possession. I can deny you a ride for any of this, or if you have a dog, or are a woman not wearing the proper Islamic garb. (the taxi driver turns and smiles like a shark) I have the law on my side…Joe.

G.I. JOE: Abdul. (Joe slowly moves his hand toward his concealed handgun). I captured you two years ago in Afghanistan. What are you doing here?

TAXI DRIVER: Working, of course! (he points to a taxi license on the dash board with his face and real name on it). I was released from Guantanamo earlier this year, given a visa and a job right here in America. What a country!

G.I. JOE: (anger wells as he struggles to control himself) I should have killed you when I had the chance.

TAXI DRIVER: (face becomes expressionless, eyes cold) Yes, you should have. My friends and I, we like America now…and I have many, many friends here, Joe. We are legion. Some you know, some you don’t, but we all represent the Religion of Peace. (the man quickly smiles again and waves his hand dismissively) Bahh! Enough idle chat. Business is business. Since you are an old ‘friend’, I will extend you Arab hospitality and forgo the usual questions. I will have you at the Daily News in no time. We can catch up on old times on the way.

He hacks his meter and quickly pulls way from the curve before Joe can bolt from the cab. 

To Be Continued…

Part III: In the last installment, after G.I. Joe leaves Government Man the airport to go tell his story to the American People, he finds himself trapped in a cab driven by none other than his terrorist nemesis, Abdul, whom he captured years ago in Afghanistan.

We join Joe as he rides in the back of the cab with the Taxi Driver Abdul,

G.I. JOE: What do you plan to do with me, Abdul?

TAXI DRIVER: (laughs) I’ll drive you to the office of the Daily News, of course! Do not fear me, Joe. I am a simple taxi driver trying to make a living, that is all.

G.I. JOE: Forgive me if I don’t believe you. 

TAXI DRIVER: There is nothing to forgive, Joe. You are an infidel, I expect nothing less.  Tell me, why do you wish to go to the Daily News? Are they writing a story on you?

G.I. JOE: It’s my business, not yours.

TAXI DRIVER: Have it your way. I am just curious. You know, the Daily News did a story on the Taliban before you captured me. They sent a young woman reporter. She wore a burka for her interviews and was very respectful. She never called us terrorists, but used the proper term ‘insurgent.’  She wrote about your soldiers, too, about the many innocent civilians the Americans had killed. (his eyes narrow in the rear view mirror as he looks back at Joe).

Joe looks out the window expressionlessly and in silence. "Closed” signs cover many windows. Most gas stations are shuttered and, those still open sell gas at over 5 dollars a gallon. Joe doesn’t understand what’s happened to America since he’s been gone.  Not another word is spoken until, as promised, they arrive at the offices of the media  giant The Daily News.  

TAXI DRIVER: We are here. That will be 25 dollars.

Joe pulls out his wallet and hands over a twenty and ten dollar bill.

G.I. JOE: Keep the change.

TAXI DRIVER: Thank you. You are most generous for an infidel dog. Would you like me to wait for you?

G.I. JOE: Get lost. (turns and walks to the revolving door)

TAXI DRIVER: (laughs) Impossible, infidel! I have a GPS! Ha ha!

As the cab pulls away, Joe looks up and down the street, half expecting an ambush. It doesn’t feel like home, but more like a third world country, like he’s still overseas conducting a covert op. It’s all wrong.

Joe steps into the lobby and asks the security guard to see a reporter. Over thirty minutes later a plain-looking young woman in jeans approaches.

WOMAN REPORTER: Are you…G.I. Joe?  

G.I. JOE: (gets up and extends his hand) Yes, Ma’am. Formerly G.I. Joe, now just ‘Joe’.

WOMAN REPORTER: (doesn’t extend her hand) I see. What can I do for you?

G.I. JOE: (lowers his hand, confused by her curtness) I have information your paper might want.

WOMAN REPORTER: Don’t tell me, it’s about your exploits in Iraq and Afghanistan, right? I bet you’re trying to sell a book or something. I’m sorry, but we don’t give free publicity to self-glorifying veterans trying to make a buck. Peddle it to Fox or the Military Channel.

G.I. JOE: (laughs) It’s nothing like that. It isn’t really even about me or the war. It’s bigger than that. Please, just give me some of your time. Can we talk in your office?

WOMAN REPORTER: Her eyebrow perks up. She looks Joe up and down, rolls her eyes and motions for him to come with her. You’ve got five minutes.

They enter an elevator and emerge on the 15^th floor. As they walk thought the giant space Joe observes dozens of empty cubicles. Here and there a bored reporter quietly types on a keyboard or idly surfs the internet. 

G.I. JOE: This place is almost deserted. Where are all your reporters?  

WOMAN REPORTER: (disgusted) We’re completely converting to a online publication in about a month. No one is buying papers anymore, haven’t you heard? Where have you been?

G.I. JOE: Deployed.

WOMAN REPORTER: Sure, whatever. Anyway, we’ve been staying afloat due to generous investors but we can’t stop the inevitable.

G.I. JOE: What kind of investors?

WOMAN REPORTER:  Concerned and enlightened people from Mexico and Europe. We even received a bailout from the government.

G.I. JOE: (Shocked) You’re receiving foreign funds and government backing?

WOMAN REPORTER: (Impatient and condescending) Investment, Mr. Joe. I’m sure you don’t understand such things..

G.I. JOE: (coldly) No, I’m sure I don’t. (whispers under his breath) I call it state-controlled media.  

She motions for Joe to sit down by her cubicle desk. He scans the numerous journalism awards decorating her wall among photos of her with prominent political figures, mostly eastern liberal Democrats and Republicans. Below her diploma from WellesleyCollege is a picture of her in a burka (her face was exposed) surrounded by smiling Taliban fighters. Below that is a Pulitzer Prize for journalism for a column entitled, “The Other Border Crisis: Life and Death in the Hindu Kush.” He recognizes a younger Abdul standing in the background.  His heart sinks in his chest. Other journalism awards dot the wall for columns on the environment and social causes.  

She opens a drawer and pulls out a single sheet of paper. On it is a checklist with the title: TEMPLATE FOR APPROVED STORIES REGARDING THE US MILITARY.

WOMAN REPORTER: Now, Mr. Joe, tell me which of these categories applies to your story:…Is this regarding gays in the military?

G.I. JOE: No.

WOMAN REPORTER:…abuse or torture of prisoners?

G.I. JOE: No.

WOMAN REPORTER:…outrageous Pentagon spending?

G.I. JOE: No. 

WOMAN REPORTER:…friendly fire?

G.I. JOE: No.

WOMAN REPORTER:…soldiers speaking out against the war? 

G.I. JOE: No, absolutely not, can I please... 

WOMAN REPORTER:…injustices to soldiers inflicted by a Republican administration?

G.I. JOE: (getting irritated) Lady, just let me…

WOMAN REPORTER:…how much soldiers approve of the current administration? 

G.I. JOE: (raising his voice) No! It’s nothing like that. If you give me a chance I’ll explain.  

WOMAN REPORTER: (she drops her pencil, leans back and exhales) Okay, what’s this all about.  

Joe briefly details the incident with Government Man at the airport. While be speaks she examines her pencil and looks at her watch. When he finishes she takes a deep breath and puts the sheet of paper back in her desk.  

WOMAN REPORTER: That is a very interesting tale, Mr. Joe, but I’m afraid our readers wouldn’t be interested. It’s not news.

G.I. JOE: Not news? I’m bring you proof elements of our government are in collusion with foreign powers to undermine the sovereignty and integrity of the United States and you say it’s not news?

WOMAN REPORTER: Do you really have proof? If not, it’s only your word.

G.I. JOE: I can get proof, but isn’t that what you are supposed to do as an “investigative journalist?”

WOMAN REPORTER: Even if you do have some type of “proof” (she raises her hands into quotation marks) what you probably saw was legitimate lobbying and campaign contributions. This is still a free country, Mr. Joe, regardless of what some of your kind think.

G.I. JOE: I see, and who are “my kind?” (he doesn’t raise his hands into quotation marks).

WOMAN REPORTER: Alright, enough of the charade. We’re not going to write a story about this, unless it’s about how paranoid you right-wing reactionary nut jobs are.  

G.I. JOE: Why do you assume I’m a right-wing nut job? 

WOMAN REPORTER: Please, don’t insult my intelligence. You were in the military, right? You all come from backwoods red states, clinging to you guns and religion. Its one thing to join the military because of poverty, but you people stay in. You enjoy it!  

G.I. JOE: Ever heard of patriotism?  

WOMAN REPORTER: Patriotism is the code word your kind uses to justify racism, imperialism and oppression.   Face it, Joe, you just hate who’s running the government right now. Your kind are dangerous. You’re the militias, the Klan, the Minutemen…all homegrown terrorists if you ask me.

G.I. JOE: I got it; you hate me and my kind. Message received. But don’t you care about corruption in our government? 

WOMAN REPORTER: (leans back and crosses her arms smugly) I don’t see corruption. I see a disgruntled soldier sticking his nose in matters well above his pay grade.

G.I. JOE: (gets up to leave) This is going nowhere. I’m sorry you feel this way. I’m also sorry you are the gate keeper to the national media. Before I leave, just one quick question. If I’m a terrorist, who are they? (points to the picture of her and the Taliban).

WOMAN REPORTER: (lifts her chin defiantly) They are the real patriots, Joe, true freedom fighters. They stand against those like you in places like Afghanistan, Cuba, Venezuela, and Columbia.

G.I. JOE: (smiles) Wow, you a poor, confused soul. I know most of these freedom fighters and I remember you. You came into area of operations expecting the US military shuttle you from one end of Afghanistan to another. And we did, all in hopes you might write a half-way objective piece on our operations.  You didn’t. Did you know these ‘freedom fighters’ planned to ambush you a few days later and hold you for ransom? Our intelligence discovered the plot and killed or captured most of the killers in this picture. They wanted you for as another Daniel Pearl, but only after you printed your glowing story about them. I bet you didn’t know that, did you?

WOMAN REPORTER: (ashen) You’re lying.

G.I. JOE: If you don’t believe me call the Handy Dandy Cab Company and ask for Abdul. (points to Abdul’s picture) He’ll be glad to tell you why they accommodated you only because you would unknowingly lead them to large groups of US soldiers. You were bait, a useful idiot. In fact, it was Abdul who revealed the whole plot, thanks to a little water boarding. Isn’t that ironic, you owe your life, and a Pulitzer, to water boarding. Print that in your dying newspaper or save it for the internet, I don’t care.

 Joe turns to leave without looking back. He finds himself back on the street. Abdul’s cab is nowhere in sight.

G.I. JOE: First the government and now the media. (he sighs) That leaves the people.

Joe puts on his Oakley sunglasses, shoves his hands in his pockets and sets out down the deserted street to find America.

To Be Continued…

Joe passes store after store, most shuttered and closed. He stops in front of a GM dealer to see what this year’s new models look like. The showroom is empty. A faded sign out front says, “Cash for Clunkers...last week!” Joe looks across the street to see a Toyota dealer also shuttered and closed. Next to the closed Toyota dealer is an open gas station/convenience store where gas is $6.00 a gallon.

G.I. JOE:If no one is driving, why is gas so expensive?

 He rummages through some change in his pocket, thinking a cold drink would be nice. He crosses the street and enters the store. A pudgy, bored looking white teenage clerk, covered with piercings and tattoos, sits behind the counter. Leaning back with his feet up on the counter he’s reading a porn magazine. He doesn’t look up as Joe enters he store. Next to him is an older man, possibly from India or Pakistan, ringing up purchases for the small line of customers.

 On the way to the drink cooler Joe stops in his tracks. The price for the 20oz colas start at $6.99. A small bag potato chips goes for $7.99.Candy, and other snacks range from $8 to $15 per item. Mouth agape, he moves from aisle to aisle, stunned by prices.A pack of light bulbs is $49.99. Cigarettes are over $150 a pack (a sign next to the cigarette display states, “The Surgeon General warns smoking makes you a BAD person.”)  The only item he can find which is even close to prices he recalls before he deployed is beer.

 Joe is very thirsty, so he reluctantly grabs a small $5 dollar can of Pepsi and heads to the register. Joe stands behind an old woman in a shabby sun dress, a young black man dressed hip-hop, and a middle aged white man in blue mechanics coveralls. Aside from the mechanic, who had a six-pack of beer, Joe is the only with merchandise.

Joe looks outside at the empty gas pumps and wonders what everyone in line for. Joe reaches the front of the line...

INDIAN MAN: How many lottery tickets would you like?

Joe notices a tray in front of the register filled with a few crumpled dollar bills (which look slightly odd) with a sign ‘Need a dollar, take a dollar. Have a dollar, leave a dollar.”

G.I. JOE: No thank you, just the soda.

INDIAN MAN: (Raises his eyebrow in disbelief. He holds a ticket up with the words “SUPER GIGANTIC MEGADOLLAR EXPRESS) Are you sure? The drawing tonight is for $10 billion.

G.I. JOE: (Almost chokes) Whoa! No, I’m not one for playing lotteries. (looks around, no one is in line behind him). Just the Pepsi, please.

INDIAN MAN: (Shrugs and rings up the drink) Have it your way. That will be $7.68. 

G.I. JOE: But it says ‘5 dollars’ on the sticker.

INDIAN MAN: (Irritated) Yes, it is. But I have to add tax.

G.I. JOE: That’s over 25% sales tax!

INDIAN MAN: No, sales tax is only 8%. Since it is officially designated a junk food, the Federal Obesity Tax is added on, too. Also, since it is considered a luxury the National Greenhouse Emissions Tax is added in as well. I do not write the laws; I am just a humble merchant. Lucky you are not getting gas, Cap and Trade has doubled the price even with so few people driving these days.

G.I. JOE: But why is this drink 5 bucks in the first place? When I left a 12 ounce can of soda like this cost 50 cents, maybe 75 cents tops. What happened?

INDIAN MAN: My tall, clean shaven customer, you are most confused on the ways of the world! See him? (points to the teenager still reading porn behind the counter). He is my only employee. I cannot afford any more because a few years ago I was forced to unionize under the new Card Check law. Clarence here had seniority, so my other employees had to go. Now I must pay him well above minimum wage, and provide him full “free” healthcare I must buy only from the government. He has paid vacations and...oh, I could go on and on. (the teenage clerk shoot the Indian man the middle finger without looking up. The Indian man rolls his eyes and goes on.) Since I’m considered management, I cannot work here alone or I will be fined for unfair labor practices. He cannot work here alone without supervision or I will be fined for unfair labor practices. So, my pool of employees shrank, my labor costs skyrocketed, I now work 18 hour days and I’m can no longer stay open 24 hours. Oh, and these costs are now passed on to you, my most valued customers. (sighs). I should have stayed in Bombay.

Joe hands over a $10 bill. The Indian man looks quizzically at money, and then shakes his head.

INDIAN MAN: I’m sorry, sir, but I cannot accept that money. Dollars are not legal tender anymore.

The teenage clerk looks up at Joe in mild interest, shakes his head and mutters, ‘tard’. Joe resists the urge to put a boot upside the punk’s head.

G.I. JOE: (irritated) What do you mean? This is legal U.S. script!

INDIAN MAN: Have you just arrived from Mars, young man? (points to the sign behind the counter: WE TAKE AMERODOLLARS ONLY! NO LEGACY BILLS ACCEPTED). All of our prices are in Amerodollars, not legacy dollars.

G.I. JOE: When did this happen?

INDIAN MAN: When inflation made the U.S. Dollar worthless.

Joe picks up a dollar from the tray and examines it closely. The color and general design are similar to the dollar he knows, but it is graced with the portrait of the current president, not George Washington. The flags of the U.S., Canada, and Mexico are printed on it.

G.I. JOE: (Shakes his head in stunned) You have to be kidding me. I’ve been out of the country for a long time. Maybe too long. Can I exchange my dollars for these...? (points at the new script).

INDIAN MAN: Ameros.

G.I. JOE: Ameros (the word feels dirty on his tongue. He tosses it back into the tray in disgust).

INDIAN MAN: (laughs) Oh, no sir! It would take several truckloads of old money to buy this can of refreshing cola. (after a thoughtful pause he goes on). Come to think of it, it won’t be long before it will take a truckload of the new money to buy it, too.  

INDIAN MAN: (shrugs) I’m sorry. Have a nice day and comeback soon...but with real money.

Dazed, Joe walks to the door. The Indian man grabs a broom and dustpan and moves to the back of the store, shooting the clerk a nasty look. On the way out Joe glances at the magazine rack and stops cold. On every magazine cover, every newspaper (of which there were few), and every tabloid are pictures of the president. Each picture is flattering, each caption glorifying. Joe looks up at the television, and there is the president making a speech. Joe walks back to the counter again.  

G.I. JOE: Can I change the channel for a moment? It will only take a second.

CLERK: (without looking up) I don’t care, it’s all ‘tarded anyway.

Joe reaches up and scrolls through the channels. The president is on every channel. On one network he’s giving speech, on another he’s reading to school children, and on another he’s joking with a group of women on a morning talk show.A cold chill runs down his spine, he’s seen this before.

America was now a third-world backwater, where the money is worthless and politics is a personality cult. Here the people are repressed through excessive taxes, state media, and the numbing drug of socialism. Anger fills Joe’s heart.

G.I. JOE: Hey, buddy, which channel is Fox News on?

CLERK: (finally looks up with an expression of shock and disgust) What ARE you talking about, dude?! That s*it is definitely con-tra-BANDED! They dun outlawed that hate speech, mo-fo! Whut’choo want wid dat? Are you a hater or sump’ing?

Joe steps away from the counter and leaves without a word.

CLERK: (calls out as Joe leaves) Dat’s right, keep walking! Get yo a*s outa here, you HATER!

Joe walks the streets for hours, unable to reconcile what he’s seen this day with the America he loves and cherishes.

G.I. JOE: (Grits his teeth and shakes his fist) How did this happen here!

He comes upon a church, Main StreetMission, nestled among the decaying buildings of downtown.

 Joe has both a spiritual and physical hunger. As the sun sets and the night turns cold he refocuses his mind on his immediate needs: food and shelter. He can live off the land if necessary, but he prefers a warm bed to the cold ground. Maybe the mission will have a spare cot and something to eat. 

Hope rises in heart and his spirits lift as he walks toward the chapel. He’ll go inside and pray. Still, he believes in the American people.

To be continued.