BlackFive

While you surely know about iconic Vietnam-era planes like the F-4 Phantom II or the UH-1 Huey helicopter, you probably haven't heard much about aircraft like the Black Spot, Skyknight, or the Dragonfly. Although they aren't as well-known, these fascinating warplanes played crucial roles during operations in Southeast Asia.

Hiller OH-23 Raven

 The OH-23 was used as a scout helicopter during a time when the U.S. military was still figuring out how to best utilize helicopters on the battlefield. Ravens would scout ahead of friendly units, but were underpowered for Vietnam's terrain and their skid guns (when they worked) weren't adequate either. Nearly 100 of these lightweight helicopters were lost before the Army replaced them with the vastly improved OH-6 Cayuse in 1966.

1863: During day two of the Battle of Chancellorsville, Gen. Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson is shot by a Confederate sentry while performing a leaders-reconnaissance mission. Following the amputation of Jackson’s shattered arm, Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee will lament, “He has lost his left arm, but I have lost my right arm.”

The revered Jackson will die in eight days of pneumonia.

1945: Soldiers with the 82d Airborne and the 8th Infantry Division liberate the Wöbbelin concentration camp in northern Germany. The Nazis allowed many of the 5,000 inmates to starve, and U.S. soldiers found 1,000 dead upon arrival.

The soldiers force nearby German townspeople to visit the camp and bury the dead. Conditions were so extreme at Wöbbelin that some of the inmates had resorted to cannibalism, and hundreds more would die after the camp's liberation.

That same day, Gen. Heinrich von Vietinghoff surrenders all Wehrmacht forces in Italy and the Red Army flies the Soviet flag over the Reichstag building. Berlin has fallen.

1946: When prisoners at Alcatraz riot - breaking into the prison armory and taking hostages - Marines from Treasure Island Naval Base assist in suppressing the riot. Prior to becoming a federal prison, Alcatraz was a military fort and detention facility, housing Confederate prisoners during the Civil War and conscientious objectors during World War I.

Read the rest of the post at Unto the Breach

I’ve seen Concrete Bob cry. 

That’s not the normal opening for a SYSK, is it?

Robert “Concrete Bob” Miller did not have the sobs of a wimp – instead it was gigantic howling, mad physical crying, leaving him breathless.  Crying the way a strong man shows grief. Then, Bob would stop and say, “We got work to do.”

Everyone that knows Bob also knew that he laughed in the very same way...

I don’t recall if I first met Concrete Bob in the basement bar at Fran O’Brien’s or at the gate at Walter Reed.  It was about twelve years ago, and my first recollection of him was standing on the corner on a Friday night, outside the gate at Walter Reed, counter protesting Code Pink - a group of hardcore socialist women deliberately trying to demoralize our newly arriving wounded troops with signs that said "you got maimed for a lie" and displaying coffins, among other nasty things. Once per week, on Friday night, our most severely wounded troops came to Walter Reed from Germany.  Once on the ground, a bus brought them to the base at about 9pm.  And Code Pink would be there to send a horrible message.

I remember getting off of the Georgia Ave bus and Bob handing me the flag when the Army bus of wounded troops arrived at about 2130.  The flag was huge and I stepped out into the street to block the hags from Code Pink protesting our wounded warriors just arriving.  I know that Major Pain was there, too. Maybe John and Mary Bell, among others. 

After the bus with our wounded troops entered the fort, we all went to Malone House (Fisher House) to see if anyone needed anything. 

In Malone House, Bob wanted to check on a few of the long term guests there.  He hadn’t seen some of them in a few months. The wounded soldiers and their families greeted Bob like a hero.  Because Bob was a hero.  A big damn hero.

Concrete Bob was a Marine veteran - street smart and cunning.  As my friend Jonn Lilyea wrote the other day:

“When Code Pink’s protest permit expired, Bob was at the DC office and got permission for the counter-protest to occupy both sides of the main gate. The Code Pink protest got moved down the block away from the sight of the wounded troops as they arrived on the Friday night bus.”

Bob ensured that those horrible people would not damage our troops any more than they already had been. 

Big. Damn. Hero.

“Your BBQ sauce is a healing elixir of joy and goodness.” – review of Concrete Bob’s BBQ Sauce

If you knew Bob, you never were hungry around him.  Bob fed everyone.  

There are stories upon stories upon stories of Concrete Bob and his amazing-kick-ass-best-sauce-you-ever-had BBQ. When Malone House was under construction and a new patio was added in 2010, Bob fed the construction workers, along with the families there.  Just because.

Once when I was in DC and Bob couldn’t meet me due to a work conflict, he sent BBQ sauce in mason jars to my hotel room.  Just because.

Recently, one of our friends shared a story about Bob running a veteran support event in a park, and then feeding homeless people there, saying, “No one goes hungry around me!”

No one ever did.

Big. Damn. Hero.

Bob teamed up with the boys from BlackFive on many ambitious endeavors.  I became acquainted with United Conservatives, folks from the Free Republic (FReepers), Vets for Freedom, Protest Warrior, The Gathering of Eagles, etc.  Early on, I began to understand that Concrete Bob was not just a follower but a nexus connecting many of his friends.  While Bob would never admit that he was a leader, he led by example.  He showed great humility at times.  And, others, it was the Concrete Bob Show.  You all know what I mean.

Bob championed, I mean CHAMPIONED, veteran causes.  His work on behalf of veterans raised tons of money, awareness and gave vets and their families hope.  Of all people, Concrete Bob brought a sense of normalcy to people whose lives had changed dramatically.  Bob would hear of someone in need and immediately reach out to his network to find a way to help.  He saved lives.  Because that’s what Concrete Bob does.

Big. Damn. Hero.

Bob wasn’t a blogger when we first met.  He became one soon after meeting Smash and Jimbo and I.

One of his first posts was about his critics posting comments:

To the asshats who wrote the dumb posts, you should Thank God you live in a country that allows you to be as stupid as you want to be, and no one can bitch slap you for it.

That, my friends, was the essence of Concrete Bob – humor, pride in his country, ire at those who oppose us, and a point to be made in one single sentence.  He would never be deterred from saying what he thought needed to be said.

Big. Damn. Hero.

What I haven’t said before is that Bob was one of my biggest supporters, one of the first, and a huge fan of BlackFive.  He sent encouraging emails to me week after week after week…He handed out our cards, our shirts, everything.  Bob was all in.  Hell, BlackFive would have been so much less without Concrete Bob in our corner.

He sent me this a few years ago.  I hadn’t heard from him in a while.

Thanks for taking an interest, Matt. Great to hear from you as well.
You keep amazing me with your posts. Don’t stop.

But I did stop. I burned out.

Bob saw it coming at me and wouldn’t quit. While I wish I had his unbreakable spirit, I am so very grateful to have been propelled by it over the years.  I am in his debt.

Bob would be happy and completely embarrassed to be in the Someone You Should Know category (as he sent us many candidates for the posts).  We all know that he belongs with that group.

Bob died on Tuesday, November 28^th, 2017 after a long fight with cancer.  He leaves behind a wife, children, and grandchildren along with an outstanding legacy that I only began to touch upon.

A memorial service will be held 10:30 a.m. Saturday, December 16, 2017, at Hunton Baptist Church, 11660 Greenwood Rd., Glen Allen, Va. 23060.

There’s an old saying that you die twice.  Once when your heart stops beating.  The second time when no one remembers you.  No one who met him can ever forget Concrete Bob Miller.

Bob is now free.  A great man with a generous heart, he had faith in many of us, despite our own doubts, and that energy carried us through many storms.  He gave us many, many laughs, great food, and his enduring loyalty and friendship…even when we didn’t deserve it. 

Semper Fidelis, indeed.

Bob loved and was loved imperfectly, honestly, fiercely, and he gave away love, respect, and kick ass BBQ, all with a great sense of humor. After all, that is what life is all about - Bob gave away everything that he received.

Bob believed in us. He never stopped. I pray that he knows the effect that he had on each of us.

Bob would frequently close his correspondence with, “you can count on me” and “I love you all.”

We love you, too, Bob.

1862: Disappointed in the lack of progress of Maj. Gen. George B. McClellan's Peninsula Campaign, President Abraham Lincoln departs for Hampton Roads, Va. on the Treasury Department revenue cutter Miami to personally oversee operations. Over five days, the president - a former militia rifle company commander - directs the bombardment of Confederate positions and lands to conduct reconnaissance of the area with Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton and Secretary of the Treasury Salmon P. Chase.

1864: The bloody albeit inconclusive Battle of the Wilderness (Virginia) opens between Union Army forces under the command of Lt. Gen. Ulysses S. Grant and Maj. Gen. George G. Meade, and Confederate forces under Gen. Robert E. Lee. Fighting is grim: Casualties will be heavy on both sides. Union and Confederate generals will be killed. Wounded and trapped soldiers will be burned alive by a battle-sparked woods fire. Within two days, Grant will disengage and advance toward Spotsylvania Courthouse.

1916: Two companies of Marines from the transport USS Prairie (AD-5) land at Santo Domingo, beginning the United States' eight-year occupation of the Dominican Republic. The leathernecks provide protection for the U.S. Legation and Consulate, and occupy the nearby Fort San Geronimo.

1917: Eugene J. Bullard becomes the first black combat aviator, earning his wings with the French Air Service. The Columbus, Ga. native's father came to America from the Caribbean island of Martinique and his mother was a Creek indian. Bullard fled to Europe to escape racism in the United States and joined the French Foreign Legion as a machine gunner, seeing action in the Somme, Champagne, and Verdun campaigns before being wounded. After recovering, he joined the air service and earned his pilot's license. The "Black Swallow of Death" would fly 20 combat missions for the French - claiming two aerial kills - before war's end. He volunteered for the infantry when Germany invaded France again in 1940 and was wounded.

Excerpt - the rest of the post can be found at Unto the Breach.

This book is f#cking awesome.  

BLUF:  First off, this book should be read by every military officer and senior NCO.  Second, I wish I had one back when I was a Group S2/S3Air or the Brigade Training Officer in the 3 shop.  It is useful for all but I would strongly recommend that all 2nd LTs and ensigns have a copy.  This is what they DON'T teach you in ROTC or the Academies or OCS...

Penned with a wry wit, LTC Dunphy outlines the do's and, more importantly, the don'ts of leadership from a staff officer's perspective.  Politically incorrect as hell, Dunphy has items like "mouth breather" alerts and "bush league/amateur hour" statements.  As I read through the survival guide last night, I found myself nodding in agreement or outright laughing along with the author.  However, the book is not about entertaining Major B, it is about making Major B a far better officer than he thinks he is.

With chapters like "The Beer Math of Doctrinal Consumption", Dunphy usually opens up with some smart-ass remark that then evolves into the lesson to be learned. Por ejemplo, in the section about building a solid relationship with your commander, Dunphy starts with, "Fight the close fight and run the daily operations of the Battalion so your boss can look at the big picture, fight the deep fight, and make out with the good idea fairy." before outlining some common sense methods to accomplish that goal. 

While most of the information should be intuitive, with 15+ hour days, deployments and field work, leaders may miss some/most of the points made by Dunphy. The survival guide serves as reminders to us all on (1) what to focus on, (2) what not to step in, (3) how to be a better leader and (4) how not be f#cked up like polio.

The following book review is a special for BlackFive readers provided by Elise Cooper.  You can read all of our book reviews and author interviews by clicking on the Books category link on the right side bar.

In a just released book, Legend, (WWW.ERICBLEHM.COM) author Eric Blehm recounts the heroism of Green Beret Staff Sergeant Roy Benavidez, of the U.S. Army’s 240th Assault Helicopter Company. 

The first part of the book details Roy’s early life from birth until marriage, enlistment, and examples of the his tenacious spirit. In 1966, Roy suffered a serious injury from his first tour in Vietnam, having been told he would never walk again. Yet, a year later after much therapy and willpower, Roy not only regained his ability to walk, but qualified to become an elite Army Green Beret. The 2nd part of the book gives a lot of background into the special operations out of Vietnam and the 240th Assault Helicopter Company, including how the US covertly inserted and removed 12-Man Special Forces A Teams. The last part of the book details the events of May 2^nd, 1968.

Benavidez went into the firefight to bring out the wounded soldiers, part of a team sent into Cambodia.  Upon arrival he jumped out and into the withering enemy fire. Despite being immediately and severely wounded, Benavidez reached the perimeter of the decimated team, provided medical care, and proceeded to organize an extraordinary defense and rescue. During the hours-long battle, he was bayoneted, shot, and hit by grenade shrapnel more than thirty times, yet he refused to abandon his efforts until every survivor was out of harm’s way.

Ingrained into his thinking by his grandfather, Benavidez had the attitude ‘if someone needs help, you help them.’  Blehm told blackfive.net, “He knowingly went into a place of chaos.  It is obvious it is not the size of the man, but the size of his heart.  The story is surreal considering after putting the wounded on the helicopter, he went back to rescue the interpreter, while holding his own intestines.  As I recount in the book, he crawled around the seriously wounded, giving tactical orders, took charge of air support, medical aid, ammunition, and boosted the wounded morale.” He saved the lives of eight men and eventually recovered, receiving the Medal of Honor thirteen years later. He dedicated his life to inspire those in his situation, from humble and difficult beginnings.

A powerful part of the book is when Blehm discusses the treatment of those who fought in Vietnam.  The Army told them to be proud of their service and go home to rejoin their family and friends.  Telling them, “They are proud of you and are anxiously awaiting your return.”  Yet, in direct contradiction Roy was told not to wear his uniform in public.  However, Blehm recounts how Roy disobeyed those orders.  It was not the veterans who were the “baby killers,” but the North Vietnamese who crucified children to walls and used them as target practice. 

Legend is a moving story.  Through extensive research readers get to know Roy personally and understand that the American soldier had their hands tied by politicians.  After reading this book people should realize that there is a great debt owed to those that fought in Vietnam, soldiers who were doing their patriotic duty.

Kat Croft befriended a Marine Raider.  After his death, she was witness to the way his brothers in arms welcomed him home from war and honored his memory.  She has decided she would like to try to capture the story on film, and is seeking a very modest budget of $15,000 for production.  She has raised more than a third of this money already.

If any of you would like to support her efforts, please follow the link above. 

“The outlook on life from the perspective of someone who’s comfortable with violence and death makes a book not just a book, but a seminar on what it means to be human.” -Kelly Crigger, President of Graybeard Books

BooksbyVeterans.com, powered by Graybeard Books, will go live today, on Veterans Day. The company is dedicated to giving U.S. military veterans and their spouses an outlet to share their stories and get their works seen by more people than they could have reached on their own.
<...>
BooksbyVeterans.com will provide an website for readers who want to find a book by a veteran, an outlet for authors who want to write their book, and a blogging platform for veteran writers. But beyond providing these services to veterans and customers, BooksbyVeterans and its parent company, Graybeard Books, strive to help veterans navigate the publishing world, which can be daunting. Besides the traditional publishing houses, platforms like Createspace, Nook, Kindle, Lulu, iBooks, and Smashwords offer authors a self-publishing outlet that can be confusing. Every author has the difficult task of figuring out which platform is right for them and how to use it to their advantage...

Go here to read the press release or just go here and visit the site - BooksbyVeterans.com

This is so choice! The groove is on.

Here are some awesome videos.  [Reality videos after the "jump" (ha, I kill me).]

 In order to send the Air Force some love, there were two USAF Pararescue (PJs) HALO jump videos which are shared below and then one rockin' compilation video after the jump that's a must see:

I swear, that @#%& is better than a cup of coffee...

Jimbo posted these before:

Oh man, that was fun. I don't care whether you have or haven't ever jumped out of an airplane, this is a great look at it. I think what it reminded me most is exactly how much of a giant bag of shite on a rope you are on a static line jump. Even so, I still felt the rush.