Posts by occamrzr06

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    03/26/2015 5:45:19 PM PDT · 25 of 28
    occamrzr06 to EternalVigilance
    So much so that the French could then go across with one rubber boat and do it successfully.

    De Gualle told de Lattre, "Even if the Americans do not help you, you must get across the Rhine".


    03/22/2015 10:03:10 AM PDT · 15 of 44
    occamrzr06 to GreenLanternCorps

    This page has a link to the crew, with pictures.

  • The Reality of Ferguson (Vanity)

    03/13/2015 1:44:07 AM PDT · 37 of 51
    occamrzr06 to Talisker
    One of the most powerful of all prayers is a silent cry of anguish. God doesn't care about the words, He cares about the heart. Words are used to open the heart. With anguish, the heart is already wide open and words aren't necessary.I was going to say the same thing, only not as eloquent or poignant.

    Thank you.

  • Brother of man executed by Utah firing squad calls it brutal

    03/13/2015 1:34:52 AM PDT · 13 of 64
    occamrzr06 to Slings and Arrows

    A Firing Squad is for soldiers.

    Criminals are hanged and royalty beheaded.

    That’s the way it has always been.

  • State's first transgender lawmaker charged in bomb threat

    03/13/2015 1:27:41 AM PDT · 7 of 19
    occamrzr06 to Berlin_Freeper

    X and Y Chromosome, that’s a he stop buying into their agenda.


    03/12/2015 6:40:36 PM PDT · 44 of 46
    occamrzr06 to colorado tanker
    The Americans didn't care pretty.

    One of the serious problems in planning the fight against American doctrine is that the Americans do not read their manuals, nor do they feel any obligation to follow their doctrine...


    03/12/2015 6:33:32 PM PDT · 43 of 46
    occamrzr06 to henkster
    Not much love today for the news of the war. Fewest comments I’ve seen in a while.

    Well, the bridge at Remagen doesn't collapse for another 5 days. Until then, Hodges is pouring everything he has across a two lane railroad bridge.

    Patton is either now, or in a few days on leave in Paris. The third Army doesn't get across the Rhine until the end of March, but they do beat Monty.

  • Hillary’s 55,000 pages of emails is a costly, logistical nightmare

    03/11/2015 12:57:23 PM PDT · 32 of 34
    occamrzr06 to KarlInOhio

    I was thinking more like what IP address did come from and go to. Any Bcc? If it was a forwarded message, who was it forwarded from?

  • Hillary’s 55,000 pages of emails is a costly, logistical nightmare

    03/11/2015 10:38:56 AM PDT · 3 of 34
    occamrzr06 to Cincinatus' Wife

    There is no metadata once you print emails.


    03/07/2015 4:11:18 PM PST · 52 of 77
    occamrzr06 to Jacquerie

    Bridge building
    Trajan’s Bridge across the Danube, the longest bridge for over a millennium
    Further information: Roman bridge

    The engineers also built bridges from both timber and stone depending on required permanence, time available etc. Some Roman stone bridges survive to this day. Stone bridges were made possible by the innovative use of the keystone to allow an arch construction. One of the most notable examples of military bridge-building in the Roman Empire was Julius Caesar’s Bridge over the Rhine River. This bridge was completed in only ten days and is conservatively estimated to have been more than 100 m (300 feet) long.[1][2] The construction was deliberately over-engineered for Caesar’s stated purpose of impressing the Germanic tribes,[3] who had little experience of engineering, and to emphasise that Rome could travel wherever she wished. Caesar was able to cross over the completed bridge and explore the area uncontested, before crossing back over and dismantling the bridge. Caesar relates in his War in Gaul that he “sent messengers to the Sugambri to demand the surrender of those who had made war on me and on Gaul, they replied that the Rhine was the limit of Roman power”. The bridge was intended to show otherwise.

    They just knew how to do it!


    03/07/2015 6:10:14 AM PST · 8 of 77
    occamrzr06 to Homer_J_Simpson

    From Atkinson’s. “The Guns at Last Light”

    Hodge’s on Wednesday, March 7, reported Cologne had fallen. Yet so had the city’s link to the east bank of the Rhine: a twelve hundred-foot segment of the Hozenzollern bridge had been blown into the river at noon the previous day. First Army’s hopes for an early crossing seemed ever more faint.

    “The Rhine. I don’t know what I expected. Another Mississippi, I suppose,” an engineer sergeant told his diary. “The damn thing flow north.” Indeed it did. From Switzerland, where the river was fed by 150 glaciers, to the North Sea, the European father of waters formed an extraordinary moat against invasion from the west. Although it was only the world’s fifteenth-largest river in volume, ranking between the Euphrates and the Rhone, the Rhine was broad, deep and fast enough that engineers compared any crossing to “a short sea voyage”. “At no place is the river fordable, even at low water,” the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers reported, and winter floods had been the highest in a quarter century, with currents in some stretches approaching eleven miles an hour. Most of the thirty-one Rhine bridges within Germany had been demolished by men with a rare aptitude for destruction. Thanks to the aerial bombardment of German factories, the river flowed relatively unpolluted for the first time in a generation, but so much wreckage clogged its bed that the Allies could not simply sail upstream from Nijmegan. A “top-secret and private” note from Churchill’s office to Beetle Smith likened the difficulties faced by seven Allied armies in catapulting eighty division across the river to another D-Day.”

    Plans to jump the Rhine had been drafted even before the Normandy landings. Exhaustive studies examined bank, current, weather, and ice conditions, as well as Roman accounts of erecting a trestle bridges before the birth of Christ, and French records of nineteenth-century pile-driving near Strasbourg. Army engineers in Vicksburg, Mississippi, scrutinized historical hydrology data, aided by intelligence agents in Switzerland and daily gage readings intercepted in German radio broadcasts to river pilots. More than 170 models of the Rhine were built, and hydraulics laboratory in Grenoble conducted elaborate experiments. A Rhine River Flood Prediction Service opened in January; mindful of the Roer debacle, diplomats pressed the Swiss to protect seven headwater dams with soldiers and artillery.
    River-crossing schools on the Loire trained hundreds of outboard-motor operators, pile-driving specialists, and DUKW drivers. A steel mill in Luxembourg extruded 54,000 tons of massive I-beams for bridge building. Boatyards in Florida, Minnesota, and Michigan built hundreds of seventeen-foot plywood craft designed to carry a dozen riflemen and three engineers each; nested and crated in clusters of six, the vessels were whisked to Europe by cargo plane or fast ship. French boatwrights, shown a photograph of a storm boat in January, set to work using blueprints drawn by a naval architect. Trees were felled, plywood milled, and screws and nails fashioned from surplus wire; five weeks after placing the order, the U.S. Army picked up seven hundred boats. Seagoing landing craft, capable of carrying a Sherman tank or sixty men, sailed from England to Antwerp and up the Albert Canal before being hauled overland to the Rhineland on trailers so enormous that bulldozers led the convoys to knock down any building crimping the roadway. Other big craft for this “inland navy” were trucked three hundred miles from Le Havre; they arrived, a witness reported, “festooned with treetops, telephone wires, and bits of buildings from French villages.”

    By early March, forward depots contained 1,100 assault boats, 124 landing craft, 2,500 outboard motors, 5 million board feet of lumber. 6,000 bridge floats, and enough steel and pilings to build more than 60 bridges. Everyone agreed, however, that it would be far simpler to capture one already built.

    Just such a bridge still stood fifteen miles south of Bonn at Remagen, an ancient Roman town straddling a road built by Marcus Aurelias. Here the Rhine scoured a curving basalt gorge: to the north, Siegfried has slain his dragon at Drachenfels, bathing in the creature’s blood to become invulnerable; to the south, Julius Caesar built two spans over the river in 55 B.C and 52 B.C., during the Gallic campaigns. The current bridge had been completed in 1918 and named for General Erich Ludendorff, the progenitor of the final, fatal German offensive on the Western front in the Great War. More than a thousand feet long and wide enough for two trains to pass abeam, the span featured symmetrical arches resting on four stone piers, with embrasured stone towers at either end. Wooden planks could be laid on the rail tracks to permit motor traffic. On the east bank, the tracks vanished into the Dwarf’s Hole, a tunnel bored through the steep six-hundred-foot hill called the Erpeler Ley. Local esthetes complained that the bridge marred the dramatic riverscape; they complained more when it drew repeated Allied air attacks, including a January raid that killed three dozen civilians.

    Retreating German soldiers had tramped across the Ludendorff in late 1918, and now retreating German soldiers were tramping over it once again, mingling with refuges, livestock, and an occasional hospital train carrying broken boys. A teenage antiaircraft gunner described a snaking procession making for the bridge through Remagen’s jammed streets on Wednesday morning, March 7, “with cannons being pulled by horses, by motor vehicles, and yes, even by soldiers.” Fewer than a thousand defenders remained in the area; most were Volkssturm militia of doubtful martial value, and all fell under a confused, fractured command architecture. Filed Marshal Model had promised reinforcements, but none arrived.

    Sixty zinc-lined boxes for explosives had been fitted to the bridge in 1938, linked by cables through heavy conduits to an electrical firing switch inside the rail tunnel. The premature blowing of a bridge near Cologne-apparently triggered by an American bomb-had led to a Fruhrer order that explosive charges would be emplaced only when the enemy was within five miles of a bridge, and igniters were to be withheld until “demolitions seems to be unavoidable.” On Wednesday morning, sketchy reports put U.S. Army outriders near the Western bluffs above Remagen. Explosives were laid, but Army Group B described the Americans as a thin screening force to mask an Allied thrust towards Bonn and Cologne. Little urgency obtained.

    Their enemy was nearer than they knew. On the previous night, March 6, the U.S. III Corps commander, Major General John Milliken, had phoned Major General Joh W. Leonard, commander of the 9th Armored Division. “Do you see that little black strip of a bridge at Remagen?” Milliken asked as both men squinted at their maps. “If you happen to get that, your name will go down in glory.”

    At 8:20 a.m. on this gray, misty Wednesday, a tank-and-infantry task force left Meckenheim, ten miles from the river. Leading the column in the advance guard was Lieutenant Karl H. Timmermann, who had command of Company A of the 27th Armored Infantry Battalion for less than twenty-four hours. Timmermann had been born not far to the southeast, in Franfurt; his doughboy father had taken a German war bride in 1919 before moving back to Nebraska. In a note scribbled in a Meckenheim cellar, the weary young offer told his wife:

    There is no glory in war. Maybe those who have never been in battle find [a] certain glory and glamour that doesn’t exist….Tell mom that we’ll be on the Rhine tomorrow.

    Now Lieutenant Timmermann would prove himself wrong: for a brief vivid moment glory would be his. Summoned by two waving scouts shortly before one p.m. he hurried forward in his jeep to find a hazy, panoramic view of the Rhine gorge below. “Jesus, look at that,” a sergeant muttered. “Do you know what the hell river that is?” Through field glasses Timmermann watched cows, horses, soldiers, trucks, and civilians cross beneath the bridge arches in a lumbering parade. Just below, white flags and bedsheets flapped from Remagen windowsills. Two locomotives with steam up stood on the far bank.

    As three platoons descended through the town, leapfrogging from doorway to doorway, Timmermann bounded past the handsome St. Apollinaris Church and a sign that read, “Citizens and Friends: Preserve Our Parks.” A spatter of German musketry provoked booming return fire from a platoon of new M-26 Pershing tanks, each brandishing a 90mm gun. Tearful Germans pointed to cellars where Volkssturm stragglers crouched in terror. A captured enemy general in an elaborately braided uniform proved upon interrogation to be a railroad station agent.

    Shortly before 2 p.m. a dark geyser of earth and paving stones abruptly blossomed above the western ramps; the blast left a smoking hole thirty feet wide, intended to keep American tanks from gaining the bridge. Heckling gunfire erupted from the Ludendorff towers. Bullets pinged and sparked among the girders. GIs fixed bayonets before darting past the last houses above the river. “I’ll see you on the other side,” the 27th Armored Infantry commander told Timmermann “and we’ll all have a chicken dinner… Move on.” Timmermann raked the far bank with his glasses. Tiny figures loped along the shoreline and into the tunnel. “They look like they want to get us on the bridge before they blow it up,” he said.

    Barely a half mile away, pandemonium swept the Eastern shore. Civilians and shrieking children cowered in the Dwarf’s Hole as billowing smoke from the white-phosphorus shells drifted down the tunnel. German soldiers ran this way and that along the bridge ramp, including several engulfed in orange flame from American tank shells chewing up the riverbank and smacking the Erpeler Ley. Three junior officers argued over whether the demolition order should be put in writing. Shouts of “Blow the bridge!” carried across the water, and at length a captain shouted, “Everybody lie down! Open your mouth to protect your eardrums.” He turned the key on the firing switch.

    Nothing happened. He turned it again, and again, without effect. A German sergeant sprinted ninety yards onto the bridge, lighted the primer cord by hand, and pelted back to the tunnel, chased by bullets.

    With a doleful boom the timber planks rose from the railbed like jackstraws. Dust and black smoke boiled from the piers. The Ludendorff seemed to levitate momentarily as if expending a great sigh, then settled back onto its stone foundations, insulted but intact.

    No one would ever be certain why fourteen hundred pounds of explosives failed to detonate properly: faulty charges, faulty blasting caps, perhaps a tank shell that severed the main demolition cable, perhaps some averred, a miracle.

    Reprieved, Lieutenant Timmermann and his men raced onto the bridge, slashing wires and pitching charges into the water. Four Pershing tanks and a dozen Shermans arrayed on the west bank hammered the eastern tower until riflemen could clear out a German machine gun nest. Sergeant Alex Drabik of Toledo reached the far bank first, in a zigzagging, stumbling sprint that cost him his helmet. Eight others followed on his heels, including Timmermann.

    By late afternoon, Company A had 120 men across. A platoon began to scale the Erpeler Ley, dodging stones rolled down the slope by the flak battery holding the crest. After a single warning shot, five German engineers surrendered in the Dwarf’s Hole; GIs blew apart the main demolition switch with a carbine. A 90mm tank round from across the river smashed through a German locomotive tugging a long string of boxcars, and the train halted with a sharp lurch, a white plume of steam sighing from the firebox. GIs crouched in a ditch as a passenger train from the north pulled into the tiny Erpeler station; middle aged soldiers with rifles spilled onto the platform only to be greeted with mispronounced shouts of “Hande hoch.” A single German guard at the Eastern exit of the rail tunnel also was seized, and twenty minutes later two hundred others emerged under a white flag to march in their long leather coats, hand high, across the bridge they had neither saved nor destroyed. Before surrendering, Captain Willi Bratge, the Remagen commandant, told a subordinate to deliver a message to the German high command. “Inform then that the demolition of the bridge was unsuccessful,” Bratge said, “and that the Americans have crossed.”

    Night fell, a sodden, moonless night, “dark as a pocket,” as one officer recorded, so dark that engineers felt for the street curbs in Remagen with their feet. Bulldozers slowly filled the crater on the western ramp and three artillery battalion unlimbered. Soldiers ripped lumber from German houses to patch the rail planks. Exhausted drivers napped at their wheels as great knots of convoy traffic converged at the bridge, awaiting orders to cross. By ten p.m. three depleted rifle companies occupied the far shore, thwarting a counterattack by a hundred German engineers and antiaircraft crewman who were repulsed near the Erpeler Ley while carrying half a ton of explosives.

    At last nine Shermans - narrower than the Pershings – crept across at midnight, guided by foot soldiers wearing luminous buttons on their belts. German tracer fire searched the span, usually a few feet too high. “ominous and nerve wracking creaking” rose from the bridge, a captain reported, all the more ominous when the tenth vehicle to cross, a tank destroyer, skidded to the right near one of the eastern piers and plunged partway through a hole in the deck. For several hours- “the most harrowing minutes of my life,” one officer acknowledged – the vehicle remained stuck, blocking all traffic. Engineers debated pushing it over the side, or jacking it up, or winching it out, or blowing it to pieces. Just as dawn peeked above the Erpeler Ley, the damnable thing was muscled out and towed away. The desperate effort to deepen the bridgehead resumed apace, through what a Wehrmact general now called “the inner door to Germany.”


    03/05/2015 4:28:57 AM PST · 8 of 16
    occamrzr06 to Homer_J_Simpson

    From Atkinson’s. “The Guns at Last Light”

    Allied commanders also found themselves struggling to enforce SHAEF’s “non-fraternization” edict, which forbid “mingling with Germans upon terms of friendliness, or intimacy,” and specifically proscribed “the ogling of women and girls.” The violations incurred a $65 fine, so the pursuit of pretty German girls—dubbed “fraternazis” and “furliens” – was soon known as the $65 question.” “Don’t play Sampson to her Delilah,” an Armed Forces Network broadcast warned. “She’d like to cut your hair off—at the neck.” But “goin fratin” became epidemic, often with cigarettes or chocolate as “frau bait.” “to frat” was a synonym for intercourse; non-fraternization was referred to as “non-fertilization.” GIs argued that “copulation without conversation is not fraternization,” and Patton advised, “Tell the men of Third Army that so long as they keep their helmets on they are not fraternizing.” Many a troop truck rolled through a Rhenish village with some leather-lunged soldier bellowing pathetically at young women on the sidewalk, “Bitte, schlagen mit.” Please sleep with me.

    General Hodges ordered champagne served in his mess on Monday, March 5, to celebrate First Army’s imminent arrival on the Rhine. Toasts were raised “to an early crossing.” A day later VII Corps punched into Cologne, Germany’s fourth largest metropolis, that city of mystics and heretics, of Saint Ursula and eleven thousand virgins said to have been massacred by barbarians for their faith, the city where Karl Marx had edited the Rheinishe Zeitung and where priest had once celebrated a thousand masses a day. Now 77,000 residents, only 10,000 remained. Two dozen Bomber Command raids in the past three years left Cologne resembling “the open mouth of a charred corpse.” In the image of the poet Stephen Spender. Like other dead cities it had the same odd shapelessness that afflicted dead men, a loss of structure and contours as well as life.

    Volkssturm pensioners fought from behind overturned trams, and enemy snipers darted through the rubble. Building by broken building, block by broken block, Sherman gunners systematically burned out upper floors with white phosphorus while GI infantrymen grenade the cellars. A cavalry charge across Cologne’s airfield by 3rd Armored Division’s tanks smashed sixteen 88mm antiaircraft guns trying to form a skirmish line. The twin-spired thirteenth century cathedral still stood, though wounded by bombs, shells and incendiaries that had left the ceilings and stained glass in shards across the nave floor. Nazi flags could be found “dumped like scarlet garbage into the corners of the alleys,” wrote the journalist Janet Flanner. “The destroyers of others is herself destroyed.”

    …..continued March 7


    03/01/2015 7:28:23 PM PST · 18 of 21
    occamrzr06 to henkster

    Your recollection is pretty good. It wasn’t a very good movie.

    It was, however, a significant event in the ETO.


    03/01/2015 7:16:06 PM PST · 12 of 49
    occamrzr06 to the OlLine Rebel

    I vote for Rush.

    Queen was pretty good, but you just can’t compete with the drumming of Neil Peart.


    03/01/2015 7:01:27 PM PST · 15 of 21
    occamrzr06 to Homer_J_Simpson; colorado tanker; CPT Clay; EternalVigilance; PapaNew; henkster; Tax-chick

    The Rhine is the next big obstacle. Let’s see, is there a movie that depicts this?

    The Bridge at Remmagen.

    Wait! It doesn’t happen for another 6 days. My bad.

  • Five Rounds Standard issue for a U.S. Army Guard?

    02/26/2015 7:51:06 PM PST · 13 of 86
    occamrzr06 to occamrzr06


  • Five Rounds Standard issue for a U.S. Army Guard?

    02/26/2015 7:50:24 PM PST · 12 of 86
    occamrzr06 to marktwain

    LA Riots in 1992, I was issued 15 Rounds .45. Than they gave me a medic who was issued a .45 also. He got 7, I took 8. An LA Sheriff Deputy gave me about 20 hollow point .45’s, which I still have.

    My troops had anywhere between 20 - 30, most brought their own as we turned in 200 more rounds than we drew. NCO’s had more than the troops, because I said so.

  • Leonard Nimoy Rushed To Hospital After Severe Chest Pains!

    02/23/2015 2:43:14 PM PST · 21 of 107
    occamrzr06 to Mmogamer

    Pon farr mishap, perhaps.


    02/20/2015 5:09:25 PM PST · 39 of 40
    occamrzr06 to EternalVigilance

    Fascinating pictures.

    I really enjoyed them.


  • These concept NFL helmets feature massive, futuristic logos

    02/18/2015 10:47:14 AM PST · 13 of 81
    occamrzr06 to TangledUpInBlue

    The Miami Dolphin, dolphin is not wearing a helmet. Dolphin fans wont go for it.

  • he First Openly-Bisexual Governor in America

    02/13/2015 6:49:32 PM PST · 17 of 58
    occamrzr06 to bigmak007
    But it shed’s light on why Kitz the Crat was thrown overboard. Kate Brown will be held up and out in 2016. Someone should bake a cake.....

    I have no idea who those people are. Then again, I don't really care who those people are. I'll take your word they are important, but like to bugger other men.

  • he First Openly-Bisexual Governor in America

    02/13/2015 6:36:38 PM PST · 8 of 58
    occamrzr06 to 2ndDivisionVet

    I think I threw up a little in my mouth.

    Why do I care?

    I am tired of people whose sexuality defines their life. Get over it and leave me the hell alone, I don’t care!

  • Drew Peterson charged with trying to hire hitman to kill prosecutor

    02/09/2015 12:59:59 PM PST · 5 of 29
    occamrzr06 to ColdOne

    Killers gotta kill

  • The Walking Dead Discussion Thread: Season 5 Episode 9 [SPOILER warning]

    02/08/2015 7:56:56 PM PST · 112 of 182
    occamrzr06 to cripplecreek

    How’s Bessie?

    And did you ever get off of that Mountain?


    02/08/2015 7:21:37 PM PST · 23 of 33
    occamrzr06 to occamrzr06

    No One Like You, not Toy.....


    02/08/2015 7:20:57 PM PST · 22 of 33
    occamrzr06 to the OlLine Rebel

    I vote either:

    Working for the Weekend: Loverboy

    Paperlate: Genesis

    No One Like Toy: Scorpions

    Wait....What, those aren’t choices? In what world?

  • Former star of Power Rangers Samurai arrested for 'murdering roommate with a sword'

    02/01/2015 3:09:37 PM PST · 10 of 31
    occamrzr06 to nuconvert
    Sounds like he & his girlfriend need to be living in cheaper housing.

    It's Palmdale. There is nothing cheaper in LA County.


    02/01/2015 1:20:03 PM PST · 28 of 37
    occamrzr06 to Homer_J_Simpson

    From Atkinson’s “The Guns at Last Light”
    As the chiefs convened again on Thursday afternoon, February 1, Marshall asked the room be cleared of all subordinate officers and note-takers. No sooner had Brooke taken his chair, than Marshall bored in. Why were the British so worried about the influence of Bradley and Patton had on Eisenhower? What about Roosevelt’s influence? Did the British think that was pernicious too? “The president practically never sees General Eisenhower, and never writes to him. That is at my advice because he is an Allied commander,” Marshall said, eyebrows knot and voice rising to a wrathful timbre. In fact, the British chiefs could not be “nearly as much worried as the American chiefs of staff are about the immediate pressures of Mr. Churchill on General Eisenhower.” The prime minister never hesitates to hector the supreme commander directly, day or night, circumventing the Combined Chiefs. “I think your worries,: Marshall declared, “are on the wrong foot.”

    He had not finished. Should the British succeed in interposing a ground commander between the supreme commander and his three army group commanders, Marshall intended to resign – or so he had told Eisenhower. Montgomery was behind much of this pother, Marshall charged; despite being given “practically everything he asked for.” Including the U.S. Ninth Army, he plainly craved “complete command.” If truth be told, Montgomery was an “over-cautious commander who wants everything: an “impudent and disloyal subordinate” who treated all American officers with “open contempt.”

    A stunned silence followed this tirade. After the war, Brooke would write: “Marshall clearly understood nothing of strategy and could not even argue out the relative merits of various alternatives. Being unable to judge for himself he trusted and backed Ike, and felt it his duty to guard him from interference.” But Admiral Cunningham, the first sea lord, later observed that “Marshall’s complaint was not unjustified.”

    For now, American indignation carried the day. Brooke fell silent, the chiefs promptly agreed to endorse SHAEF’s mast plan, and the last great internecine tempest of the war subsided. For another month, the British conspired to replace Tedder as deputy supreme commander with Harold Alexander, whom they considered more pliant despite Brooke’s dismissal of him as “a very small man [who] cannot see big.” Eisenhower, braced by Marshall, advised London that if Alexander should arrive at SHAEF from Italy, he would find few military duties to occupy him. Spaatz would succeed Tedder as senior airman in the west, and there would be “no question whatsoever of placing between me and my army group commanders any intermediary headquarters.”

    Few could doubt that the Americans now had the whip hand. “The P.M. was sore,” Kay Summersby jotted in her diary, ‘but E said he would get over it.”

  • In Response to Student Misconduct, Dartmouth to Ban Hard Liquor

    01/29/2015 9:42:41 AM PST · 7 of 42
    occamrzr06 to C19fan

    Get rid of the Boone’s Farm and Night Train but not the Jamison.

  • 11 Unexpected Facts Proven by Science That Can Make Your Life Happier and Exciting

    01/27/2015 10:47:48 AM PST · 11 of 37
    occamrzr06 to Billthedrill

    You weren’t playing it loud enough.

  • Sheppy Smith is now a meteorologist

    01/26/2015 7:40:08 PM PST · 6 of 111
    occamrzr06 to Kevin in California

    What is this snow they talk about?

  • Post-Traumatic Stress 'Evident In 1300BC'

    01/23/2015 8:50:49 PM PST · 10 of 28
    occamrzr06 to Mariner

    The Romans would make their warriors wait outside the city for 3 days or more, before allowing them to go to their families after battle.

    Kind of a re-acclimation. Our soldiers did something similar in WWII. It often took weeks or months to be sent home from theater. Time to decompress and contemplate.

    I’m not saying our WWII vets didn’t suffer, my dad is one of them.

  • Could Ted Cruz Win South Carolina’s Presidential Primary?

    01/23/2015 8:37:00 PM PST · 59 of 60
    occamrzr06 to SmokingJoe

    What are you Smoking Ted?

    Look, I’d like to see Cruz win too, but the GOPe, the establishment won’t let him near the White House.

    Same with the Sarah Palin crowd, like her, but it’s not going to happen.

  • Could Ted Cruz Win South Carolina’s Presidential Primary?

    01/20/2015 8:38:13 PM PST · 19 of 60
    occamrzr06 to Sirius Lee

    Thanks, but I’m not a canvasser. Actually, I’ve worked for a number of elected officials and there isn’t a one I would do anything for.

    Ted Cruz may sound all great, but I’ll pray to a higher being.

    Politics, for me, isn’t the be all end all.

    They all have the same goal, you just need to get past their sweet talk.

  • The A-10 Has Carried Out 11% Of US Airstrikes On ISIS Though The Plane May Be Scrapped

    01/20/2015 8:30:53 PM PST · 21 of 44
    occamrzr06 to RandallFlagg

    Looks like a truck.

  • Could Ted Cruz Win South Carolina’s Presidential Primary?

    01/20/2015 8:26:47 PM PST · 14 of 60
    occamrzr06 to Sirius Lee
    What are you doing to ensure that Ted Cruz wins?

    Waiting for your phone call to tell me what the strategy was!

  • Could Ted Cruz Win South Carolina’s Presidential Primary?

    01/20/2015 8:16:33 PM PST · 9 of 60
    occamrzr06 to 2ndDivisionVet

    It doesn’t matter unless he can win it all.

    He could win a Big Mac with a McDonald’s scratch off, but that, like the South Carolina Primary means nothing.


    01/20/2015 7:50:45 PM PST · 25 of 28
    occamrzr06 to henkster

    It’s more than just counting man vs man also.

    The equipment all get assigned a relative value, both enemy and allied. Then the calculations get really complex and fun.

    A Sherman tank may get a value of 5, where a Tiger may have a values of 8, but if you get a ratio of even 1.5 to 1 number of total tanks you’ve got a superiority.

    These types of calculations were developed during WWII and are still used in both military and civilian sectors.

    I had a Decision Management course in my MBA and the first chapter said, these concepts were developed by the Army during WWII.

  • Documents: Ted Cruz Ticketed For Alcohol Possession As A Minor In 1987

    01/14/2015 8:40:11 PM PST · 89 of 132
    occamrzr06 to SweetAkitoRose


  • 8-foot alligator in Van Nuys backyard may have killed pets for decades

    01/14/2015 7:54:57 PM PST · 14 of 27
    occamrzr06 to lastchance
    During that surprise visit Monday, the alligator – estimated to be 8 feet long – was found, along with the carcasses of two dead cats. The carcasses were impounded along with the alligator, officials said.

    Owner Laura Mattson says the alligator belonged to her husband, who got the alligator as a baby in 1977. When her husband died a few years ago, she took on Jaxson’s care, as well as the care of neutered feral cats that were taken to her home by a cat rescue organization.

    No, I don't think in this case that is true.


    01/13/2015 10:31:40 AM PST · 19 of 54
    occamrzr06 to Steven Scharf

    He thought they were out to get him.


    01/07/2015 4:29:32 AM PST · 7 of 27
    occamrzr06 to Homer_J_Simpson

    From Atkinson’s The Guns at Last Light

    This spans a few days, but it is so short that to post individual days would lose the meaning.

    SAHEF on January 5 confirmed an American press report that the U.S. First and Ninth Armies now fought under British command. The statement from Versailles claimed that the arrangement had been made “by instant agreement of all concerned,“ but failed to explain that the reconfiguration was only temporary. Smug accounts in London newspapers began describing GIs as ‘Monty’s troops”; privately encouraged by the field marshal, the press clamored for a “proper” chain of command in the northwestern Europe, under a single battle captain.

    “We have nothing to apologize for,” Bradley told his staff. “We have nothing to explain.” Major Hansen wrote in his diary, “Many of us who were avowed Anglophiles in Great Britain have now been irritated, hurt, and infuriated by the British radio and press. All this good feeling has vanished.”

    On Saturday, January 6, Montgomery cabled Churchill that he planned to summon reporters to explain “how [the] Germans were first ‘headed off,’ then ‘seen off,’ and now are being ‘written off.’” He also intended to rebut any suggestion of American failure in the Ardennes. “I shall show how the whole Allied team rallied to the call and how national considerations were thrown overboard…. I shall stress the great friendship between myself and Ike.”

    On the same day, he wrote a confidant in London, “The real trouble with the Yanks is that they are completely ignorant as to the rules of the game we are playing with the Germans.” When Brigadier Williams, the intelligence chief, asked why he intended to hold a press conference, Montgomery explained that Eisenhower’s generalship had been impugned and “I want to put it right.” Williams offered two words of counsel: “please don’t.” Other in his headquarters, smelling condescension, also sought to dissuade him. Alan Moorehead pleaded with De Guingand to muzzle Montgomery, lest he “make some bloody awful mistake.”

    “That’s a funny position for a newsman to take,” De Guingand said.

    “I want to win the war,” Moorehead replied.

    In a double-badged maroon beret and a parachute harness – “dressed like a clown,” in Moorehead’s description – the field marshal appeared before a gaggle of correspondents in Zonhoven on January 7. No doubt he meant well. Praising the GI as a “brave fighting man, steady under fire, and with that tenacity in battle which stamps the first-class soldier,” he also saluted Eisenhower as ‘the captain of our team,” declaring, “I am absolutely devoted to Ike. We are the greatest of friends.” No mention was made of Bradley, and an assertion the British troops were “fighting hard” exaggerated their role as reserves very much on the fringe of the battlefield.

    Much of the recitation, however, was devoted to describing the field marshal’s own brilliance upon taking command almost three weeks earlier. “The first thing I did,” Montgomery said, “was busy myself in getting the battle area tidy-getting it sorted out”:

    As soon as I saw what was happening I took certain steps myself to ensure that if the Germans got to the Meuse they would certainly not get over that river. And I carried out certain movements so as to provide balanced dispositions…. I was thinking ahead…. The battle has been most interesting. I think possibly one of the most interesting and tricky battles I have ever handled.

    Montgomery likened “seeing off” the enemy to his repulse of Rommel in Egypt in 1942. He closed by declaring, without a scintilla of irony, “Let us have done with the destructive criticism that aims blows at Allied solidarity.”

    “Oh, God, why didn’t you stop him?” Morrehead asked Williams as reporters scattered to file their stories. “It was so awful.” Many British officers agreed. The field marshal had been “indecently exulted,” as one put it, displaying “what a good boy am I” self-regard, in De Guingand’s phrase, and conveying what another general called his “cock on a dunghill mood.” A headline in the Daily Mail – “Montgomery Foresaw Attack, Acted ‘On Own’ to Save Day” – captured the prevailing Fleet Street sentiment, although Churchill’s private secretary told his diary, “Monty’s triumphant, jingoistic, and exceedingly self-satisfied talk to the press on Sunday has given wide offense,” A mischievous German radio broadcast mimicked the BBC with a phony news flash that quoted Montgomery as describing the Americans as “’somewhat bewildered.’ … The battle of the Ardennes can now be written off, thanks to Field Marshal Montgomery.”

    “He sees fit to assume all the glory and scarcely permits the mention of an army commander’s name,” the Ninth Army war diary complained. “Bitterness and real resentment is [sic] creeping in.” No one was more bitter or resentful than Bradley, whose “contempt had grown into active hatred” for Montgomery, reported on British general at SHAEF. Air Marshal Tedder informed his diary that cooperation between Bradley and the field marshal was now “out of the question.”

    Bradley called twice Versailles on Tuesday January 9, “very much upset over the big play Monty is getting in the British press,” Kay Summersby noted. He, too, summoned reporters, using a map and a pointer to render his own version of events, which included the dubious assertion that American commanders had consciously taken “a calculated risk” in thinning out defenses in the Ardennes. Privately he denounced Montgomery’s “attempt to discredit me so he could get control of the whole operation.” The field marshal, he asserted wanted to “be in on the kill, and no one else.”

    In another call to Eisenhower, Bradley warned, I cannot serve under Montgomery. If he is to be put in command of all ground forces, you must send me home.”

    Eisenhower assured him that he had no plans to expand the field marshal’s authority, then added, “I thought you were the one person I could count one for doing anything I asked you to do.”

    “This is one thing I cannot take,” Bradley replied.

    Once again Eisenhower sought to mollify, to mediate, and to keep his temperamental subordinates concentrated on the task at hand: evicting Rundstedt from the Bulge and resuming the march on Germany. But in a note to Brooke he admitted, “No single incident that I have encountered throughout my experience as an Allied commander has been so difficult.”

  • Firefighters Rescue Naked Woman from Estranged Boyfriend's Chimney

    01/05/2015 9:05:36 PM PST · 42 of 60
    occamrzr06 to PA Engineer

    That was a link to another wacko in Ventura. Ventura is about 2 to 3 hours north of Riverside.


  • Cruz’s dilemma

    01/04/2015 10:22:58 AM PST · 17 of 38
    occamrzr06 to EQAndyBuzz
    Stop echoing the liberal mantra and do your job?

    That is her job!


    01/03/2015 7:10:58 AM PST · 9 of 26
    occamrzr06 to Homer_J_Simpson

    From Atkinson’s The Guns at Last Light

    “Juin said things to me last night, which, if he had been an American, I would have socked him in the jaw,” a bleary-eyed Smith told Eisenhower during a staff meeting Wednesday morning, January 3. For more than an hour in the supreme commander’s office, joined by Strong and Spaatz, they debated their course. Smith still believed the withdrawal to the Vosges was imperative; 6th Army Group reported pressure across the entire front from NORWIND. Devers now accepted Eisenhower’s order “to forget Strasbourg,” but to forsake the city would threaten Allied unity. Strasboug’s military governor, had warned Patch, “You will cover the American flag with ineradicable shame,” and dispatches from the city at five that morning predicted “terrible reprisals” and “mass massacres.” Evacuation plans had already been drafted, beginning with a thousand civil servants that afternoon although only two hundred rail cars were available to transport at least a hundred thousand civilians. Buffeted by contradictory demands, De Lattre appeared to have fallen in step with De Gaulle by ordering the 3rd Algerian Division to prepare for deployment to Strasbourg.

    “Next to the weather,” Eisenhower would tell George Marshall, the French “have caused me more trouble in this war than any other single factor. They even rank above landing craft.” The art of command at times requires tactical retreat for strategic advantage, in a headquarters no less than on a battlefield, and by midday on Wednesday the supreme commander sensibly recognized that in the interest of Allied comity he would have to yield. De Gaulle had requested a meeting at three p.m., but before formally acceding to French demands Eisenhower intended to land a punch or two.

    Smith phone Devers to ask how close the Germans were to the Alsatian capital.

    “About thirty miles,” Devers replied.

    “Well, keep them as far away as you can,” Smith said. “It looks now as if you will have to hold Strasbourg.”

    The crowed stage in this melodrama grew more congested at 2:15p.m. with the arrival of Churchill and Brooke after a turbulent flight from England in filthy weather. Eisenhower whisked them from the airfield to his house for a quick lunch, and then to a conference room in the Trianon Palace. De Gaulle soon appeared, stiff and unsmiling, with Juin on his heels. The men settled into armchairs arranged in a circle around a situation map spread across the floor, and De Gaulle handed Eisenhower a copy of his letter ordering De Lattre to defend Strasbourg.

    Eisenhower gestured to the map of Alsace, which showed three German corps bearing down from the north, as well as a half dozen enemy divisions threatening attack from the Colmar salient. “In Alsace, where the enemy has extended his attack for two days, the Colmar pocket makes our position a precarious one,” he said. The long front exposed French and American soldiers alike. Moreover, Devers not only has no reserves, he had been told to forfeit two divisions to reinforce the Ardennes, where fighting remained savage.

    “Alsace is sacred ground,” De Gaulle replied. Allowing the Germans to regain Strasbourg could bring down the French government, leading to “a state bordering on anarchy in the entire country.”

    All my life,” Churchill said pleasantly, “I have remarked what significance Alsace has for France.”

    Even so, Eisenhower said, he resented being pressured to amend military plans for political reasons. The threat to pull French forces from SHAEF command seemed spiteful, given all that the Allies had done for France; the Combined Chiefs already had agree to equip sixteen divisions, and De Gaulle had recently asked for a total of fifty. Should le general choose to fight independently, SHAEF would have no choice but to suspend supplies of fuel and munitions to the French Army. This crisis could have been averted, Eisenhower added, had De Lattre’s troops fought well and eradicated the Colmar pocket, as ordered.

    By now the supreme commander’s face had grown beet red. De Gaulle stared down his great beak. General Eisenhower, he said, was “at risk of seeing the outraged French people forbid the use of its railroad and communications… If you carry out the withdrawal, I will give the order to a French division to barricade itself inside Strasbourg and before the world you will be obliged to go in and free it.”

    The prime minister chose this moment to gently lower himself from his chair to the floor with feline grace. Laying an index finger on the map, he murmured, “Strasbourg, this point.”

    Having lost his composure, Eisenhower now regained it. Very well, he conceded, Strasbourg would be defended. Sacred Alsace would remain French, the withdrawal order to Devers canceled. Ringing for tea, he confided to De Gaulle in a low voice, “I am having a lot of trouble with Montgomery.”

    The conference ended. “I think you’ve done the wise and proper thing,” Churchill told Eisenhower. Buttonholing De Gaulle in a corridor outside, the prime minister said, in his sibilant, fractured French, that Eisenhower was “not always aware of the political consequences of his decisions,” but was nonetheless “an excellent supreme commander.” De Gaulle said nothing, but before Eisenhower bade him adieu at the front door of the Trianon Palace, Deux Metres told him, “Glory had its price. Now you are going to be a conqueror.” To a dinner companion the next night, De Gaulle said, “Imagine, asking us to withdraw our troops from Strasbourg. Could you believe it?” The contretemps, he said, revealed that “these Americans….can equate politics with sentiment, the military art with logic.”

    As the happy news of salvation spread through Strasbourg lat Wednesday afternoon, jubilant crowds belted out “La Marseillaise.” A tricolor rose again before the Caserne de Gendarmerie, and a Seventh Army loudspeaker truck rolled through the city, urging calm. Eisenhower authorized Devers to keep the new SHAEF reserve for his own use; Strasbourg was to be defended “as strongly as possible”-primarily by French troops-but without risking “the integrity of your force, which will not be jeopardized.”

  • Selena Gomez pulls down picture that infuriated Muslims because she was displaying her ANKLES

    01/02/2015 2:39:55 PM PST · 32 of 70
    occamrzr06 to Drango

    I was hoping for a more seductive ankle shot.


    01/02/2015 5:25:30 AM PST · 9 of 19
    occamrzr06 to Homer_J_Simpson

    From Atkinson’s The Guns at Last Light
    Charles de Gaulle, once again referring to himself in the third person, declared that the abandonment of Strasbourg would not only be “a terrible wound inflicted on the honor of the country,” but also “a profound blow to the nation’s confidence in de Gaulle.” On Tuesday, January 2, he told De Lattre in a handwritten note, “Naturally the French Army cannot consent to the abandonment of Strasbourg….I order you to take matters into your own hands.” At nearly the same moment, Devers cabled De Lattre to pull his left wing back toward Vosges no later than Friday morning, necessarily exposing the city. The American order had “a bomb-like effect” in the French army headquarters, one staff officer observed, and it provoked an anguish “Ca, non!” from De Lattre, now confronted by conflicting orders from two masters in what he called “a grave problem of conscience.”

    De Gaulle saw no dilemma. When De Lattre proposed waiting “until the Allied high command has given its consent” to defend Strasbourg. De Gaulle replied, “I cannot accept your last communication.” De Lattre’s sole duty, De Gaulle added, was to France; it was said that at an afternoon reception in Paris, Madame de Gaulle snubbed Madame de Lattre. Strasbourg’s mayor sent the army commander a photograph of the spectacular cathedral with an inscription, “To General de Lattre, our last hope.” Confined to his cot by residual lung inflammation from a World War I gassing, the long suffering De Lattre now suffered more.

    At nine p.m. on Tuesday, General Juin appeared at Beetle Smith’s office in Versailles, tossed his left-handed salute, and then spent five hours warning of “extremely grave consequences” that would cause “the supreme commander to be severely judged” should Strasbourg be abandoned. After repeating himself incessantly, Juin at two a.m. pulled a letter from his pocket in which De Gaulle threatened to withdraw French forces from SHAEF command. “We are dependent on them,” De Gaulle had told Juin, “but inversely they are dependent on us.”

  • Uncle Billy has died (vanity)

    01/01/2015 10:32:09 AM PST · 4 of 47
    occamrzr06 to the OlLine Rebel

    Prayers to you and your family.


    01/01/2015 9:13:24 AM PST · 14 of 38
    occamrzr06 to Homer_J_Simpson

    From Atkinson’s The Guns at Last Light

    The attack indeed fell that night, the last substantial German offensive of the war in western Europe. Hitler had given another Adlerhorst pep talk to commanders in Army Group G, conceding failure in the Ardennes, but offering another chance to thrash the Americans in Operation NORDWIND, North Wind. A lunge by eight divisions southwest down the Vosges axis would recapture the Saverne Gap and link up with Nineteenth Army Group troops occupying the Colmar pocket; in addition, the attack would force Patton to withdraw from Bastogne to parry this new threat. French troops in Alsace were weak and disorganized, the Fruhrer promised, and the U.S. Seventh Army was overextended along a 126 mile perimeter.

    The Americans were also alert and entrenched. Ultra intercepts provided no specific enemy attack order, but ample intelligence revealed the German order of battle and unit boundaries below Saarbrucken. Patch had little doubt that the main attack would come against the Seventh Army left, west of the Haardt Mountains, with a complimentary attack to the east between the mountains and the Rhine.

    “German offensive began on Seventh Army front about 0030 hours,” Patch’s chief wrote in a diary entry on Monday, January 1. “Krauts were howling drunk. Murdered them.” Shrieking Waffen-SS troops, silhouetted by moonlight that glistened off snowfields near the Sarre River, hardly dented the American left wing. A single .30-caliber water-cooled machine gun, slewing left and right with long, chattering bursts, was credited with slaying more than one hundred attackers. Volksgrenadier corpses piled up in a kill sack soon dubed, “Morgue Valley.” “Gained only insignificant ground,” the Army Group G war diary recorded; then by nightfall on Tuesday: “The attack lost its momentum.”

    The most flamboyant German sally occurred on New Year’s Day, an attack by nine hundred Luftwakke planes flying treetop altitude across the Western Front. Operation BODENPLATTE, Baseplate, also known as the “Hangover Raid,” included pilots said to be wearing dress uniforms with patent-leather shoes and white gloves after celebrating the arrival of 1945. The raiders caught seventeen Allied airfields by surprise, destroying 150 parked planes and damaging more than 100 others. Montgomery’s personal aircraft was among those wrecked. But German losses approached 300 planes, some shot down by their own antiaircraft gunners who, for reasons of secrecy, had not been informed of BODENPLATTE. Worse still was the loss of 237 German pilots, including veteran airmen, instructors, and commanders. “We sacrificed our last substance,” one Luftwaffe office said.

    Even as NORWIND collapsed on the German right, an ancillary New Year’s attack ten miles to the east spilled from old Mignot Line bunkers to gain traction through corrugated terrain below Bitche. Bypassing American strongpoints in the Low Vosges, the 6th SS Mountain Division bent the Seventh Army line sufficiently to alarm SHAEF and terrify Strasbourg, thirty miles southeast. Propaganda broadcasts from Radio Stuggart reported German shock troops assembling to seize the city, with reprisals certain to fall on Alsatians who had helped the Allies. Rumors of Seventh Army detachments packing to leave along the Rhine “spread like a powder fuze and caused a general panic,” according to a French lieutenant.

    Lowered tricolors and the sight of official sedans being gasses up added to the dread. Journalists reported that roads west were clogged with “women pushing baby carriages [and] wagons piled high with furniture, as “Strasbourg steeled itself for yet another reversal of fortune. One soldier spied inverted dinner plates laid across a road in the thin hope that they sufficiently resembled an antitank mines to delay, at least briefly, the Hun’s return.