The Lost Generation.

We're told that "Gen-Z" and many others in that age range are really upset with 'Murica.

Upset that, despite a degree in Medieval Lesbian Poetry from an expenive college, and a six-figure student loan, the only job they can get requires them to ask, "Would you like fries with that?"  Or earn enough to buy a house, every generation's goal?  A goal that up to recently was attainable.  Expected, even.

Yet members of this group are so pissed at Capitalism, which they blame for thier lot in life, that they're beginning to tinker with socialism.  Or Marxism.  Or communism.  Which promise everything and delivers nothing.  

The only forms of government you vote in, but have to shoot your way out.

I'd like to remind our yout ("What's a yout?") that they are owed nothing.  They'll have to claw their way up just like I did.  And their parents did.  And many generations before them.  This life they lead is a test.  You either pass or you fail.  And frankly, they shouldn't cry about it because nobody gives a sh*t.

I might remind them also that there are 17,987 Starbucks stores in America.  More than 9,000 of them are in Taxifornia.  They are always full and so is their drive thru.  Yet they charge $3.50 to $8.50 for a friggin't cup of coffee.  As compared to the $0.25 it would cost them to make it at home.  

And they order from Uber.  And Doordash.  And other delivery services.  And are williing to pay $36.00 for a cheeseburger and fries.  When you could buy that same meal in the restaurant that made it for $14.00.  Four levels of screw job they impose upon those dumb enough to order.  Too lazy to drive 2 miles and pick it up for themselves.  Or make it at home for less than $5.00.  What a concept!  

Uber used to fight for fares at the local airport until that Gubmint Pandemic Shutdown.  They went from scab cabs to a delivery service and are now a $2 Billion Dollar Company.  

Because Gen-Z is dumber than a stump.

And I might mention my particular bugaboo are those who wear their baseball caps.  Backwards.  They were designed to keep the sun out of one's eyes.  Now they just use their free hand to shade those same eyes.  

A cell phone's in the other hand.

Perhaps if they worked two jobs, like we did, and stop blowing their free cash on frivelous crap, like we did, and start saving every spare $Nickle, like we did, they'll save enough to make the down payment on a starter home.  Like we did.  And join the Millions and Millions of Americans who are part of our wonderful Capitalist System.  The single most successful economic System in the history of the world.  A System that, if they play their cards right, will make them rich.  

But they have to sacrifice.  Is this generation willing to sacrifice?  Work 2 or 3 jobs if the circumstance requires, like we did?  Scratch and claw and reach and risk?  Like we did?  As my brilliant Old Man used to counsel, "Boy, ya' got to do what you have to do to get to where you wanta' be."  

Only time will tell.  

Institutional Knowledge.

Approximately 3.19 Million Americans die each year.

Most of them are old.  As in, over 65.  The majority of these deaths happen to those over 75.  And being 80 or over means they drop like flies.  Like lemmings rushing to the sea, they travel headlong into the abyss.  And there's no way to avoid it.  

None.    

And they take with them all the knowledge and experience they gathered over the span of their lives.  All the pain and joy and happiness and sadness and learning they collected over an entire lifetime.  All the mistakes they made and all the solutions they learned to avoid a repetition of those mistakes.  All the book learning.  And all the experience gained from the school of hard knocks.  In short, all the smarts they gained from just living; and avoid dying.

With exception of the small minority afflicted by various disease states that rob them of their mental faculties, most are "compas mentis."  Meaning as smart or smarter than they were decades earlier.  In fact, they know the answers to nearly every question.  Except knowbody is asking.  They are just put out to pasture and of no further consequence.

Exceppppt, they take with them all the institutional knowledge they gained over that lifetime.  It's lost.  Gone.  And forgotten.  By everyone but them.

No, our society doesn't value age.  Unlike some societies which revere age, like our indigineous populations, we Americans value only youth.  Americans blow huge sums to look young.  Face lifts, and tummy tucks, and butt lifts.  Just look at the Kardashians and you'll know what I mean.  Veneers, and hair plugs, and hours in the gym to try and maintain youthful looks.  No, Fellow Patriots, with certain exceptions, we hire from the Yale faculty lounge far more than we do from those who've strained to keep on living.  And learning.

Although my memory isn't what it used to be, I'd say I'm far smarter than I was decades ago.  And so are most of those my age.  Yes, they know the answers to most any question, it's just that nobody's asking.

I'm not complaining, mind you.  I've worked hard to achieve my decades of knowledge and experience.  Much of which I try share in this unassuming little blog.  And I've worked hard to keep learning and knowing and sharing.  I think it helps keep us mentally sharp.  We shouldn't warehouse our elderly.  We should fete them for managing to avoid becoming a Darwin Award recipient.  And lament the fact that we're wasting the loss of their knowledge and experience.   

I've long believed that this plain of existence is our final exam.  It's just that we have to die to know if we passed.  But until we do, I ask that we love our elders.  And ask them their opinions.  

They have them.  Except nobody's asking...    

 

The Great Escape (Part Deux).

Unless you've been hiding out in a washing machine box behind the local Wal-Mart, you know yesterday was Election Day.

And unless you're fly fishing on Alaska's Denali River, you likely know that the ignorant citizens of New York City elected a certified, unrepentant Muslim.  Or Marxist.  Or communist, take your pick.

And the Mayor-Elect has promised to provide the residents with FREE bus fare, FREE child care, FROZEN rents and heavily-subsidised, City-owned grocery stores, all at ZERO cost!  

Oh yeah, and he'll defund the Police!  And replace them with social workers!  

Why?  Because a 33 year-old, Jew-hating, HAMAS-loving wealthy Muslim, who's never had a real job, is going to force, FORCE their "rich" citizens to pay for it.  By charging all those with an income over $1,000,000 a year an additional 1% (or maybe 2%?) surcharge on their taxes.  On top of the already 2nd highest tax burden in the entire Country.  Bringing their total tax liability to 62.5%  

Gulp!!!

NYC has been our most socialistic City for years.  And most expensive.  80% of its residents vote Democrat.  Why not make it 100%?  If all the taxpayers leave, the only ones left will be those who can't afford to move but demand the Gubmint take care of them.  They're now officially in a Doom Loop.  Spiraling downward into insolvency.  Think Oakland, on steroids.  

(Remember, they've already declared bankruptcy once!).*  

Did you know that only 15,000 NYC families pay more than 80% of all the taxes NYC collects?  And that they're free to load up their Patek Phillipe's and their Rembrants and their Rolls-Royces and move.  MOVE OUT!  To anywhere!  Fast!  Taking their money and moving to greener pastures.

And almost any pasture is greener.

NYC lost over 250,000 wealthy families since 2022 due to the Pandemic and the the City's near felonius extended school closures.  And another Exodus is now slated to occur.  The "rich"** will be leaving in droves.  Fleeing!  A report just in from the largest real estate brokerage in Florida's north claims more than $100,000,000 in newly-closed purchase contracts.  Helping to bring about another Land Rush that started in 2020, but had cooled considerably of late.  From New Yorkers finally fed up enough to leave.  Areas around Charlotte and Nashville and Richmond and Anywhere Texas are being inundated with new money flowing in.  Buying up their inventory at a furious pace.  Forcing up prices by more than 8% so far this year. 

So it is with areas around NYC.  Northern New Jersey and Eastern Connecticutt and all NYC's surburban areas in Staten Island and Brooklyn and Queens are reporting vigorous home sales.  With prices often bid up by hundreds of thousands over asking price, sight unseen.  After all, they're rich; they can afford it.  And they'd rather buy a new (or second) home now, before they discover there's nobody left to sell to later.  

And let's not forget the once-Great State of Taxifornia.  Which now enjoys the reputation of having the highest taxes in the Nation.  Up to 14.4% of a premium over the wealthy's U.S. tax rates.  Which can bring their overall burden to more than 64% of their income.  

CA has already suffered the loss of more than One Million high taxed families who chose to no longer put up with the high taxes, and the highest real estate prices, and the highest gas prices, and high crime rates, and high insurance premiums, and the very highest number of homeless in our Nation.

And did you know that 52% of CA's income taxes come from only 3 Silicon Valley zip codes?  Ever wonder what would happen if they hopped in their G-700's and flew out of town?  Taking their $Billions with them?

Using our tax money, BoyGuv ("Hairgod") Newsom spent $300,000,000 to float a bond issue redrawing the lines on 5 separate Congressional Districts.  In reliably "Red" Districts.  Kicking out 3 long-serving Republican Congressmen in the process.  You should know that prior to this Special Election, the Democrats controlled all the Senate and Assembly seats in 45 out of 52 of our counties?  

Now, with redrawn districts, they'll control 50 out of 52 our counties.

Republicans won 39.5% of CA's vote in 2024.  Yet, we now have only 3 out of 55 of our Congressmen to fight for our Rights.  We're Taxifornia's Uyghurs.  Its serfs.  Like as happens in China, those are the disadvanted minority they milk like dairy cows but deny representation.  With an absolute Supermajority in both the Assembly and the Senate, they can, and do, pass any law, about anything, at any cost, without a single Republican vote needed, or wanted. 

I often thought the very best job would be a Republican seat in our Legislature.  You could stay home, collect your $148,000 a year, and never, ever be missed. 

Oh yeah, I might mention that Republicans got 31% of the popular vote in Massachusetts' election last year, but because MA has been so redistricted, so jerrymandered over the years, they have ZERO Republican Congressional representation.  Zero, zip, nada!  

Now, in our Gubmint's 36th day of a shutdown, brought about by the Democrats refusal to agree to a "clean" Continuing Resolution, it strikes me it might be a good time for those of us who "live" in the Big Blue States to run like bandits to any of America's 27 Freedom-Loving States.  

While we still can.  

*     That's anyone who makes more money than you do... 

**  "Don't tax you, don't tax me, tax the man behind the tree."  Benjamin Franklin, 1789. 

Two Things You Didn't Know About the Smithsonian.

You've been to the Smithsonian, right?  You know, our very biggest National museum?  If not, you should.  It's worth the trip to Washington, D.C. all by its self.

If so, you no doubt love it.  As I do.  In fact, I've said if there's a purgatory, I want to serve out my sentence at the Smithsonian.  For it would take another lifetime to see it all.  

So I thought I share with you, my Fellow Patriots, a couple of little factoids you might enjoy learning.  So here goes...

     -  How did it get its name?  

There was this guy James Smithson, see?  He was a miner and minerologist in 18th Century England.  He was very successful.  And he loved America and our system of Gubmint.  So much so that he wanted to visit.  Unfortunatly, he died before he could do so.  But he left the sizable fortune of $500,000 to the United States of America to be used however our Congress chose.  

And BTW, $500 Grand was back then was equivalent to about $12,798,000 today!

Anyway, our Fearless Leaders decided to use those funds to create the very best museum in all the Land.  And they surely have.  In fact, it's the largest museum in the Entire World!  And they chose to name it after Smithson, and so we have...ta da!...The Smithsonian.

     -  Where'd all those animals come from?  

You know that gigondo elephant when you enter the "Natural History Museum?"  The one raring up on its hind legs?  It's just about the biggest elephant ever collected.  It's right there in the Rotunda, trunk in the air, tusks flashing, looking pretty damn fearsome.  Well, his name is "Henry."  And he's been there since 1911.  

That's because he was shot in Darkest Africa and dragged back to D.C. by one ex-President Teddy Roosevelt.  He'd just left the Presidency and the Carnegie Mellon Foundation decided to fund his trip to Africa in 1909 and 1910 to collect specimens for the Smithsonian.  And boy did he ever!

He, his son and his Team of more than 100, shot, ya' ready for it?  23,435 animals on this safari.  More than 500 elephants.  More than 2,000 lions and tigers.  More than 1,000 jaguars and leopards.  More than 400 Cape Buffalo.  And impala and kudu and gazelles and monkeys.  In all, Roosevelt collected some of every species known to man.  And found some 300 new ones while on this safari.  In fact, the Smithsonian has more than 590,000 mammals in their warehouses.  Only about 5% of their mammals are on display.  

You might be surprised to learn that it's comprised of 21 buildings, 14 research and education centers and a zoo.  It houses over 150 Million objects and specimens, although most are not displayed.   

So when you next visit the Museum, you can marvel at the fact most of the animals on display have been there for more than 100 years!  Like I said, I've been there 8 times and still haven't seen everything.  And I intend to go back.  

Living or dead...    

"No Kings" Rally

Unless you were hiding in a refrigerator box out behind the local Wal-Mart, you know the "No Kings" rally was held this past weekend.

Yep, Fellow Patriots, some 7 Million of our fellow citizens, we hope, assembled in some 2,700 locations this past Saturday.  And then proceeded to march down a succession of Main Streets.  Demanding "No Kings."  They could have also marched for "No Smallpox." Or "No Global Warming."  They would have been equally successful in achieving their goals.  

And I watched some of it.  And was hit with a combination of amusement, outrage and concern.  Here's my take...

The average rally-goer appeared to be either an unemployed twenty-something, still living in mommy's basement, or an ex-"Summer of Love" hippy.  Some were young, a bit crazy, and easily persuaded.  Others were paid to be there by one of those crowd delivery services.  But most of them were old, white haired, wealthy Liberals, laughing and smiling.  Some were even pushing their grankids in strollers.

And carrying pre-made signs.  Ones paid for by George Soros and his "Open Society" Foundation.  He's donated more than $375 Million of his $36 Billion dollar fortune to the Democrat Party over the past several years.  Making him the Dem's Top Donor.  And even more to dozens of Left-Wing causes, with the goal of transforming our Representative Republic into a Socialist Paradise.  

You may not know it but he's the guy who bankrolled all the prospective district attorneys in more then 80 "Big Blue" cities.  Laying the seeds for "No Cash" bail.  And flat refusals to prosecute felons.  And emptying our jails before the cops could file the arrest paperwork.

But wait, there's more!  Soros was arrested in the '80's for trying to take down the Bank of England.  His "shorting" of their shares using inside information almost drove them bankrupt.  He made $Billions.  He was tried and convicted and sent to prison.  When the truth got out the Brits were so humiliated they were willing to turn him loose if he'd leave Europe and promise never to return.  He set up camp just south of Exit 58 on the Long Island Expressway.  And has been meddling in our politics ever since.

BTW, even though he's Jewish, you knew he collaborated with the Nazis to give up other Jews, right?  He was just 7 years old.  Yes, he's that old.  And yes, he's that much of a self-hater.

BTW, the one group I failed to mention was all the folks dressed in "furry" animal costumes.  There were dinosaurs, and rabbits, and cats, of course.  I still haven't found out whether they were there for entertainment, or just travelling along with all the other mentally challenged.

Harris got 74 million votes, BTW.  Trump got 76 million.  We can assume that the 7 million who spent a glorious Saturday afternoon raging against a guy who won not only the popular vote (1st time in the past 50 years), but all 7 "Battleground States" and 311 Electoral College votes, really need a hobby.  He campaigned on doing the things he's now doing.  We hired him to do those things.  And 7 million hard-bitten Leftists who are pissed their Team lost, just spent a Saturday afternoon demanding "No Kings."  

Well, it seems they got their wish.  Were Trump a King, like Obama, he'd have shut down the Capitol Mall to prevent a protest march.  His mayors would have failed to approve permits for marches in their cities.  There would simply have been no march.  

In closing, I'd like the thank the 67 million Harris voters who got-a-life and moved on from the visceral pain of an Election loss.  They filed it under "Sh*t Happens."  They got over it.  But for those 7 million who rallied, I'd suggest some therapy.  Use the money George gave you to show up and spend it on a good shrink...

They'll get you over your "TDS" macht schnell!  

  

Paying Their "Fair Share."

 "Taxing ones self into prosperity is like a man standing in a barrel and trying to lift himself up by the handles."

                                            Benjamin Franklin, 1789

The Top 1% of our Taxpayers pays 40.4% of all Federal income taxes.*

To join this much despised group one would have to have an AGI (Adjusted Gross Income) of $663,510 annually.

The top AGI earners earned 22.1% of all income, but due to our highly progressive tax policies, paid $40.4% of all taxes.

For context, the bottom 50% of all income earners paid only 3% of all Federal taxes.  The top 50% paid more than 97% of all income taxes.

So now, as I recall the bleatings heard from the Socialist Wing of the Democrat Party demand the "rich" pay their "fair share."  What is their "fair share?"  Is it 50%?  80%?  100%?

The "Top 1%" are already paying nearly half of all taxes, how much more should they have to pay in order to be paying their "fair share?"  

Here's the Bottom Line, as they say.  We're in the midst of a "class warfare."  We're near another civil war because some of us are pissed because we don't have a helicopter.  Or a private plane.  Or can go out to dinner or on vacay anytime we wish.  Or that even though we have a degree in Medieval Lesbian Poetry, and a yuuuge student loan debt, we're working at MickyD's. 

But those 1% folks made life choices early on, and those choices paid off.  The folks asking, "Would you like fries with that?," obviously didn't.  Must those who are now able to carry our Federal Gubmint on their backs apologize for their wealth to those who didn't?

I wish I was among them.  I'm not.  I tried, but whiffed at the plate.  I had a shot at the "brass ring," but missed.  I did okay, just not rarified air.  But I harbor no jealousy.  I learned early on that such negative feelings don't feed the bulldog.  I offer up some advice to those who are being led by their emotions.  Stop.  Get an education any way you can.  Get a job and work your way up.  Whether Black or Brown or Red or Yellow or White, capitalism rewards those who perform.  It did for me.  It would for you, too...    

*   That's the cash the Feds use to pay for such things as National Defense, B-2 bombers, statewide construction projects, healthcare insurance subsidies, MediCaid and the Federal prison system.  One doesn't pay for these things unless one pays Federal income taxes.  97% of you...don't.

The "Khaki Mafia."

It was October of 1966.

I'd been drafted into the United States Army with a show-up date of October 31st.  After actively avoiding the draft for years, this date was full of irony.  Halloween.  All tricks, no treats.

One could avoid the draft back then if you were going to college.  It was called a 2-S Deferment.  I went to school, sort of, in order to keep my ass attached to my body.  But I didn't actually attend classes.  I was too busy shooting pool.  For money.  Sometimes Big Money.  I couldn't be bothered to actually GO to school.  So they kicked me out, one by one, until there was no more deferment available.  I cried all night.  

So I gave in and showed up.  I'd avoided participating in that misguided "police action" in Southeast Asia, but I could no longer do so.  It was time to submit.  So instead of being drafted, I enlisted.  To become a sniper.  

I was soon deep into Basic Training.  A couple of weeks into an 8-week Fort Leonard Wood version of Hell.  Where they beat the previous "YOU" out of you, and replaced it with the "ARMY" you.  They take away your name and give you back a number.  And make you like it.  Soon, everyone's a grunt first, and somebody from Detroit, or Los Angeles, or Des Moines second. 

I was preparing to go into the tear gas training, where they pull the pin on a cannister and toss it into your tent.  And then make you take your gas mask off, breathe deeply, and recite your name and serial number.  Just to make you suffer.  All this was looming when a sergeant tapped me on the shoulder.  He told me to report to the HQ building, and make it ASAP.  

I opened the office door and there were two big guys standing there in off-the-rack, blue serge J.C. Penney suits.  They had obvious bulges under their armpits, hiding G.I.-issued Colt .45's, no doubt.  I was soil-my-shorts scared about then, wondering what Army Regulation I'd violated.  And what prison they intended to bury me under.  I need not have worried. 

Apparently I'd performed well on my entrance exams.  Well enough that I was being offered my option of tranferring to either the White House Communications Team, or Army Intelligence.  Say, um, wha...?  And they'd come to manage that process.  

Yes, I'd apparently managed to piss away anonimity and attract big-time attention.  From do your time and get out, quietly, to "Chuck Saves the World," please make your choice as to how.

The White House Commo Team is an elite group that travels to wherever the President's going, only a week or two sooner.  They set up all the requisite communications arrangements necessary for his visit.  The wire and satellite and TV stuff.  Make sure the mic works when the Big Guy starts to speak.

And Army Intelligence is a bunch of spooks who live and die pretending to be James Bond.  Without the preferred License to Kill, I might add.

They had just offered me a way out of this awful, nasty, cold (DID I SAY COLD?) torture chamber called Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri.  Colder than a well digger's ass in the Klondike, I remember saying to myself.  Like a witch's tit in a brass bra.  Daddy always told me, when faced with a choice between negatives, choose the choice least negative.  So it was Army Intelligence for me.

I know, I know.  

BTW, they let me know that sniper school was out.  Seems like your glasses tend to steam up when low-crawing through saw grass in 120 degree, and Viet Nam-style humidity.

So I wound up on an entirely different track.  No churn-'em-out fodder for that dumb fight in VietNam, I was to rather receive highly specialized training on stuff they wished to protect.  Like America's Freedom!  So they kept me away from gunfights, and on to fighting of a more, umm, "global," gentile sort.

(NOTE:  Even after all these years, I'm still under Secrecy Agreements about some specifics.  But I hope my generalities prove sufficient.

They first sent to me Fort Belvoir, Virginia, to learn all sorts of spook stuff.  Belvoir is just outside D.C., so you can imagine how much fun that was.  Then on to Europe.  Germany, at first, then France, back to Germany, then Holland, then Northern Italy, and back to Germany.  

I can tell you about one of my more interesting assignments.  Turns out the Army decided to appoint the very most "strack" enlisted man in all of the Service, a guy named William O. Woodridge, to the newly-created position of Sergeant Major of the Army.  Making him the highest ranking enlisted man in all of the Army.  He was serving in Hawaii when the announcement came out.  He then relocated to Washington, D.C.  But he left behind a mess.  A worldwide mess.  An illegal mess.

All the necessary background checks had not been done before Wooldridge's appointment was made.  The Army was anxious, believing such an appointment would be a crowd-pleaser.  And when the background checks finally came in, it seems he was under investigation on a purported slot macnine "rake-off" scandal.  One that just might derail not only his appointment, but his Freedom...

Every Army base has an NCO/EM (non-officer) club.  And every one of those non-U.S. clubs in the Army had slot machines at the time.  Usually 20 or more, electro-mechanical slots, in your choice of nickle, dime and quarter.  When you put in your coins to play, they dropped into a tube.  Which counted and then deposited coins in a tray in a locked receptacle below.  However, to make sure the machine could pay off a jackpot, the tube had to be full.  It took about 45 coins to fill to chutes, regardless of denomination.  And these coins were not yet counted!  Meaning some enterprising soul could steal everything in the chutes and not be caught.  And that's 20 tubes, x the denomination, x 3 machine dumps per week.  Multiplied by the number of clubs, times the number of Army bases.    

We're talking $Millions (the Army guessed they were stealing more than $150 million a year!).  

As the 1971 book, "The Khaki Mafia" memorialized, there were hundreds of co-conspirator NCO's around the world who were a part of this rip-off.  All reporting up the chain of command to Wooldridge.  And Army Intelligence wanted me, a lowly Sergeant E-5, to transfer in to one of those clubs, and gather enough information to try and put the Woodridge cabal in Fort Leavenworth.  

"But I get out in six months," I responded!  My favorite colonel, one Vance Owen Smith, convinced me to extend my enlistment for 6 months so I could put the cherry on top of my career.  You have to first know that everybody in the Army back then wanted only one thing; to get out.  So it took some convincing, but I finally gave in.  But only on one condition.  The only copies of my extention paperwork would be destroyed except for the ones that went to payroll.  So my paycheck would continue.  If things got ugly, I wanted to be able to say, "Hey guys, I think I ought to be out of the Army!"  Then make a dash for the airport to get out of Dodge.  Colonel Smith agreed. 

I got to the "NCO/EM Club International" on November 5th, 1969.  The Club was a converted B-29 bomber hanger.  It was huge.  Plus it had three quonset huts attached for the kitchen, the office and the 22 slot machines.  It featured seating for 450 soldiers, plus a revolving stage.  One band played off while another played on.  There were 40 in the kitchen staff, serving up the best ribeyes anywhere.  At $1.25.  And dime cocktails.  It was a big deal.  And I, a 25 year-old buck sergeant, the lowest ranking Club "Custodian" in the Army, was running it.

I signed on as responsible for more than $450,000 in Club cash.  I was told I reported to an Army Armor colonel in Mannheim, whom I never met.  I was issued the Club station wagon and allowed to live downtown in an apartment.  I came to work in a suit and tie, whenever I chose, which really angered my company first sergeant.  He was also pissed because I had a 1965 Porsche 911 and he only drove an MGB-GT.  Sh*t happens.

Within a couple of weeks my Club manager found all the proof we needed.  He was a retired Air Force E-8 club manager, so he knew his stuff.  

The previous custodian, Haskell C. Latham, Jr., had stolen tens of thousands from this Club.  Not knowing I was "the Man," he had showed me damning evidence before he left.  In the trunk of his Mercedes were two shoeboxes full of $20 solid gold Double Eagles.  Hundreds of them.  And three mink coats.  And bundles of cash wrapped up with red and yellow rubber bands.  All this from a Staff Sergeant E-6.  

And the supposedly trustworthy private company the Club had hired to pick up the keys from the Duty Officer and bring them to the Club, so the slots could be drained, was a co-conspirator.  His name was Ed Arceneaux, with whom he and Latham shared the spoils.  I brought the evidence with me to my superiors and laid it out.  Within three days the Army's Judge Advocate General had produced a warrant.  It was combined with warrants from other European and Asian clubs and Sergeant Major of the Army Wooldridge was arrested on January 20, 1970.  

I provided a sworn statement and packed my bags.  I wanted to get out of the Army before they could compel me to wait around and testify.  Most likely at the trial to be held in D.C. that summer.  Wooldridge was tried and convicted.  But because the Army was so embarrassed at having its top enlisted soldier a convicted felon, they gave him home confinement and 12 months' parole.  Swept it under the carpet, they did.  We had Woodridge cold, but he dodged the proverbial bullet.

I heard Latham was tried in NC for tax evasion, the same charge that derailed Alfonso Capone, but died from cancer before he could be jailed.  More than 230 other NCO's who were still on duty around the world also bit the legal bullet.  I understand 90 of them were imprisoned and the remainder were purged.

As the saying goes, they "F-cked around and found out." 

NOTE:  In you're interested in learning more about this conspiracy, Google the book "The Khaki Mafia" or "William O. Woodridge."