Saturday, July 09, 2005

The London attacks and the British resolve.

It has been several days since the attacks in London, and I'm just now getting around to commenting about it. As most of you know, nearly 50 people are dead, with hundreds more injured. London's underground system is closed in places, and the British people are in shock.

My heart goes out to the Londoners. They have suffered much in their long history, from fires and plagues to aerial bombardments to civil wars. The good old town of London holds in its memories two millenia of history. Celts, Romans, Angles, Saxons, Normans, Danes, Scots, and Americans have all, at one time or another, had their troops in the city. In the cases of the Celts and Americans, the invasions were more friendly and cordial. The Romans, Angles, Saxons, Normans and Danes have been hostile, while the Scots have been there under duress.

In its long history, the City of London, and by extension, the Realm of England/Great Britain/United Kingdom has withstood it all. The people have gotten back to life and moved forward. So they will do now. They are not like the Spaniards, who caved and ran from Iraq after the Madrid bombings. In fact, if there's any people the British are like in the entire world, it is the American people... or maybe we Americans are like the British. A tough, independent-minded people who will not allow others to push them around.

The people who attacked London on July 7, 2005 are, most likely, Islamists/Islamofascists *for me the two are interchangeable*. They hoped to do to the British what they did to the Spaniards. Get them to cower, run for cover, and retreat back into their shell. Apparently, these folks never studied English/British History. The Brits don't cower and run... they stand up and hit back. Ruthlessly. Don't believe me, ask the Germans what happened to their cities when they attacked the British. Ask the French what happened to Napoleon when he decided to tangle with Britain. Ask the French about the Hundred Years' War (which the French won in the same manner that the North Vietnamese won in Vietnam: By political pressures at home in England and the United States, respectively, forcing the leaders to pull out.)

Now, the only people ever to really beat the English/British were the Americans. Why? Because we're just like them. (though the War of 1812 was more of a draw, and a war neither side really wanted, but just stumbled into) One reason the Anglo-American alliance has been as strong as it has been is because we're too alike. Neither the British nor the Americans respond too well to being hit. The symbols for Britain are not the lion and the bulldog for NOTHING. Ever tangle with a bulldog? You'll know what I mean.

The Islamists, if they thought they could do to the British what they did to the Spaniards, are complete idiots. They violently underestimate the anchors of the West: Freedom of Religion, Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Government, and Freedom of Person. These were hard-won over the centuries, and the British, like the Americans, are loath to just hand them over to some goat-herding religious fanatics who believe they should rule the world and be free to do whatever they want to whomever they want. The British will fight back. They will do so with the same tenacity as always. They will not allow their "left" to tie one arm behind their back, but will strike hard, ruthlessly, and without remorse. The day of the Islamofascist being able to cow nations into quietness, if not outright surrender, are fast ending.

In fact, this attack, like September 11, 2001, reminds me of a cartoon I saw on a website a while back. There are three Islamofascists with assault rifles cheering the 9/11/01 attacks. They're all celebrating, while a fourth holds a book that says "Japan in World War II." The one reading the book has a fearful look on his face, and the caption says, "Hey! Did you guys read the LAST chapter of this book?" Get the hint, folks?

There will be a reckoning. The British people will stand up, dust themselves off, and start hitting back. As an American of African descent, I am proud to say that England/Britain is our ally! If I gotta go into a back alley against a group of Islamist thugs with only one non-American person on my side, I want a Brit next to me! Not a Frenchman, not a Spaniard, not a German, nor a Chinaman, maybe not even a Zulu (though if that Zulu is anything like Shaka, I'll take him along, too). I want a soccer-loving, fish-and-chips eating, tea drinkin, stout guzzling, cricket-playin, dart-throwin Briton at my side.

Islamofascists, beware! The Wrath of God is being sent out for you, and He's using the British and the Americans to punish you! Hitting the USA was your biggest mistake. Hitting the UK is you compounding your stupidity and asking for annihilation. Get ready to "meet Allah!"

Raise high the Stars and Stripes and the Union Jack! Let the world know that the Anglophones are pissed, and they're coming to take heads and scrotums. Stand strong, Londoners! The hour of reckoning is come.

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Excerpt #3

This is the third installment of excerpts from the new story I am working on... Enjoy!


The flight deck hums with activity. Ordnance teams arm aircraft as they are being fuelled, while pilots finish their briefings. The entire ship is alive with the actions of war.

In her own world stands a petite red-haired woman, her thoughts drifting back in time. She remembers that terrible day nearly a decade ago: The day she lost nearly everyone who mattered in her life. Orphaned and alone, the teenaged Maria LeBarne was bereft of all support and comfort. On that day, her destiny was decided. She swore to destroy that which, to her, was responsible for the loss of her parents, grandparents, brothers and baby sister.

It was the baby sister she was most sorry for, and angry about. Leanna was only a month old on September 11, 2001. She and her parents and grandparents were due back from Washington, DC that evening, having spent a week with her brothers, both of whom worked at the Pentagon. How ironic it was that the instrument of her brothers' demise was the exact plane on which the rest of her family was due to come home on. It was not lost on her that the entire family died in the same fiery crash. All but her brother Arnold, who survived the initial attack. He lived long enough for her to get to DC to see him. She remembers, too, the last words he spoke to her.

"Ain't that a bitch?! The plane used to kill us was the one Mom and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa and baby Leanna was on... You're the one, Maria... make us proud..."

He died right afterward. She cried and mourned, and the day after she buried the entire family. She swore to avenge them all.

She came back to the present and walked toward her F/A-18. Today's targets were all in Cairo, but it had been standing orders that mosques were off limits. They were to go after strictly military targets; a restriction that rankled her. Orders were orders, however, and she always successfully fought the urge to destroy a mosque or two.

The word came down, however, that the misson had been changed. As Maria climbed into the cockpit, CPT Jonas called her up. "Intelligence has reported that Gen. Ibn Bin-Qadi will be at the Grand Mosque at 1500 local time. You, LT LeBarne, are tasked with taking him out. Happy Hunting!"

The day Maria had dreamed of for almost nine years had come. She would have her revenge. Her family would soon be able to rest in peace.

Minutes later, as she took off, Maria thought about all the dead the Islamofascists had made so. Her trian of musing was interrupted by a yelp of surprise.

"We got inbound aircraft at 50 miles!" a voice called out.
"I'm on it!" announced another pilot.

Streaking ahead of the formation, two F-14s raced for the threat. At ten miles out from the Egyptian coastline, the first of the enemy MiGs fired. The second F-14 dove sharply, causing the missile to skid across the sky as it followed the escaping fighter.

The action now became fast and furious as the two groups of aircraft joined battle. One of the F/A-18s fired, and a MiG and pilot ceased to exist. Another MiG turned away and fled south toward Cairo. By this time, however, LT Maria LeBarne and her wingman, LJG Watson Andros were past Alexandria and beginning the bomb run.

"Target Acquired," LT LeBarne announced.
"Acknowledged, Lieutenant," Andros replied.
"5...4...3...2...1...Bombs Away!"
"All right, Maria, let's get on out..."

Andros never finished the statement, as his plane blossomed into a bright orange fireball. The force of the blast flipped Maria's fighter, which, incidentally, saved her. Two missiles aimed at her flew away to the greater source of heat: the fireball that had once been Lieutenant Junior Grade Watson Andros.

Maria regained control of her aircraft. In a matter of seconds, she turned, fired, and sent one of the offending Islamofascists right to Hell.

In the Grand Mosque, General Ibn Bin-Qadi knelt, prostrated himself, and began his prayers. In his supreme confidence, Bin-Qadi was oblicious to the crash of a 2000-lb napalm bomb through the dome of the mosque. Bin-Qadi saw only the bright yellow light in front of his face, and felt very warm, indeed. His clothing began to burn, and finally, his skin and hair. The last sensations he had were searing heat, intensifying pain, and the smell of his own flesh roasting.

The second bomb had missed its mark, slamming into a hospital nearby. Flames swept through the halls and into the maternity ward. Mothers nursing newborns, babies coming out of the womb and staff members all followed Gen. Bin-Qadi into the Kingdom of Death.

Flying out from Cairo, LT LeBarne passed over the Pyramids, turned, and headed back to the carrier. As she left the Egyptian coast, her radar detected an enemy plane following her. The threat closed in and she turned to face it.

"Infidel!" the enemy pilot shouted over the radio. "You have desecrated our sacred mosque and destroyed a hospital. Now, you will pay for General Bin-Qadi's death!"

"You're about to get killed by a woman," she taunted back.

Enraged, the Islamofascist hit the afterburners and closed in on her. She did the same and raced toward her attacker, flying right past him. She then flew into the sun and made the MiG chase her. After about 10 miles LT LeBarne turned back, locked on, and opened up with an AMRAM-2.

The enemy pilot threw out flares, trying to deflect the missile. It failed, however, and he was forced to run. Seeing his opportunity, he fired off two missiles. LT LeBarne easily dodged the first, but the second was more troublesome. She was forced to drop altitude to less than 50 feet.

This was wavetop level, but it was sufficient to cause the missile to plunge into the sea. LeBarne continued back towards the USS Ronald Reagan, her pursuer going right along with her. She rose to an altitude of 20,000 feet and then the Islamofascist spoke again.

"I commend you on your skill, infidel, but you must now die like the dog you are," he declared.

With afterburners still going, LT LeBarne led the enemy on. He was gaining, and she knew that the had but two chances at survival. Reaching the fleet was the safer option, but that might not happen in time. So she took the second, more hazardous option.

She shut down the afterburners and then cut engine power to a near stall. Nose up, she seemed to stop moving completely, and then it happened. The enemy pilot shot right past her, which was bad news for him, because she locked on and let loose with her last two missiles.

The Death-dealers streaked in, and he knew he was a goner. He weaved and bobbed and could see the missiles flying around him. He kept on trying to elude the missiles, trying to postpone "meeting Allah" for as long as possible. As he flew on, his radio crackled.

LT Lebarne told him, "Goodbye, you camel-felating son of a bitch!"

That was the last thing he hearde before the missiles caught up with him. The MiG disintegrated as the pilot ejected. LT LeBarne could see a parachute floating down. She raidoed for a rescue team to pick up the downed enemy pilot, and returned to the USS Ronald Reagan.

After landing, LT LeBarne jumped out of the F/A-18 and ran back to the wardroom. Elated, she sat down and waited for de-briefing. As she waited, the reality of LJG Andros' death hit her. "War, terrible war," she thought. It had not been a day without loss. She had lost so much in her life already, and now, with LJG Andros gone, she was alone again. Like a samurai daimyo, she rededicated herself to the destruction of the Islamofascist Empire.