One of the (few) benefits of age is we get to sometimes see both the beginning, and the end, of momentous events. This is one such time.
In my case I got to see the beginning and end of the Korean conflict. And the Viet Nam Police Action. And the Panama armed intervention. And so with the Grenada assault. And many others as well. In fact, there have been 212 armed conflicts the United States has entered into in its almost 250 years. 12 of them major.
In fact, there has not been a military action since the Second World War proclaimed by Congress as a "war." We weren't smart enough to learn from the French when they got their ass handed to them in Viet Nam with their involvement at Dien Bien Phu (look it up). So we invaded. And lost 55,000 of our finest.
We've had the Iraq invasion. And 20 years of the Afghanistan debacle, costing us 4,000 soldiers and airmen. Still no "war." It seems we've used our military on a whim. And depending upon which party's in power, whether outrage follows, or quiet acceptance.
And as someone who's worn the uniform of our Great Country, that pisses me off. We've often sent our young men and women off to foreign wars to fight and die without knowing whether their impending sacrifices were warranted. Or justified. And that pisses me off.
However, every now and again there's a need so great that our military intervention is demanded. Nay required. So much so that we must gather ourselves up and bite the bullet. Literally. The events and circumstances over the past few days are one such need.
I'm blessed with a great memory. Or plagued, perhaps. I recall vividly when Jimmy Carter decided that the perceived human rights of foreigners was more important to him than our National Security. In fact, I believe he put it above our national interests. And if you're a part of the half of America that wasn't alive when all this unfolded, sit back and let me take you on a quick memory tour.
Raza Pahlevi, the Shah of Iran, was a fully westernized Middle Eastern leader, and one of few we could call a friend in that most dangerous part of the world. Although a Suni Muslim, he led a secular government. Women were fully integrated in their society, and equal. They wore the latest Paris fashions and modern hairstyles, and paraded them openly on Tehran's streets. His military was powerful. We made it so. In fact, at one time he owned 120 F-4 Phantom jet fighters he'd bought from us. Second only to our own force.
This angered his more hard-line religious leaders and their followers. They openly protested, and he quickly imprisoned them. This caused newly installed President Carter to object. Strenously. So much so that he refused to support the Shah with our full might. And he was overthrown as a result.
That occurred in Early 1979. Just as quickly the Ahatollah Khomeini left his palatial apartment on Paris' Champs Elysee and flew to Tehran. And into the leadership of when then became a theocratic, American-hating dictatorship. Thank you Jimmy Carter.
Soon, the Ahatollah's followers attacked our embassey. They quickly took 66 hostages and held them for 444 days. Thank you Jimmy Carter. Carter tried to retrieve them, but the two planes he sent crashed into each other in a desert sandstorm and 17 of our soldiers and airmen were killed. Another black eye.
And then unfolded what became years of attacks on us and our friend Israel. They blew up Saudi Arabia's Kobar Towers, killing 18 of our soldiers. They shot a 737 out of the sky killing 200-plus Americans and Israelis. Their proxies shot down a Pan-Am jet, killing more than 280 souls. It went on. And on.
In short, Iran and it's proxies, later funded by some $8.7 Billion Dollars of our money, gifted by B. Hussein Obama, proceeded to kill our soldiers and airmen. This continued over a 47 year period.
Reagan tried to talk them out of their goals. So did Carter. And Obama. And even Trump in his first term. It didn't work. Death to America, the Big Satan, and Israel, the Little Satan, was their only goal. And they funded those efforts by selling oil to our enemies at wholesale prices. Many of us wondered when somebody, ANYBODY, would do somthing about it. I had given up. I was sure I'd die before I saw an end to this outrage. I was wrong. Somebody did something. His name is Donald J. Trump.
Trump just unleashed the full fury of our military on Iran. He assembled the largest armada of ships since the beginning of the Iraq conflict. More than 200 war planes were sent to blow the crap out of Iran on Saturday morning. F-15's. And F-18's. And F-22's. And F-35's. And A-10's. And B-1's and B-2's. And more than 60 refueling planes to keep them fighting. And bombing.
This operation started on Israel's Sabath. And in the daylight. Iran's leaders weren't expecting that. That's why we did it. And we blew the Ayatollah and 46 of his henchmen our of their sandals in one swell foop. And I jumped up and down. No, actually, I can't jump up and down. But I raised my fist in the air and yelled my support. So did all my fellow Americans who knew enough to know this was the right thing to do. And the right time to do it.
A succession of U. S. Presidents have tried to use words to change Iran's mind. We talked. And met. And talked some more. These efforts were unsuccessful. Even though we bombed their nuclear fuel enrichment efforts last June, they hadn't learned. Sometimes only bombs and bullets will work. This was one such time. No matter how this ends up, I say it's about damed time.
This unassuming little blog enables me to vent my overly large spleen. I have. I trust you'll agree with my views on the matter. Not everybody's lived long enough or knows enough to support America in this effort. I trust this little missive has changed a few minds...
