The Demoncrats wants us to forget that, and divide us against each other by race. A house divided cannot stand.
As early as 1908, "ghetto" was sometimes used metaphorically to describe slum areas that weren't mandated by law but that were limited to a single group of people because of other constraints. That year, Jack London wrote of "the working-class ghetto." Immigrant groups and American Jews were also identified as living in these unofficial "ghettos."
Today, for many Americans, the word “ghetto” conjures images of run-down and crime-ridden African American segregated areas—“inner cities,” in a common euphemism. This connotation is relatively recent; it has only become mainstream in the past 70 years or so. Beforehand, the term was primarily associated with Jewish urban quarters, and its changing meaning illustrates the troubling tenacity of such an idea.
In the 1850s, the debate over whether slavery should be extended into new Western territories split these political coalitions. Southern Democrats favored slavery in all territories, while their Northern counterparts thought each territory should decide for itself via popular referendum.
At the party’s national convention in 1860, Southern Democrats nominated John C. Breckinridge, while Northern Democrats backed Stephen Douglas. The split helped Abraham Lincoln, candidate of the newly formed Republican Party, to victory in the 1860 election, though he won only 40 percent of the popular vote.
The Union victory in the Civil War left Republicans in control of Congress, where they would dominate for the rest of the 19th century. During the Reconstruction era, the Democratic Party solidified its hold on the South, as most white Southerners opposed the Republican measures protecting civil and voting rights for African Americans.
By the mid-1870s, Southern state legislatures had succeeded in rolling back many of the Republican reforms, and Jim Crow laws enforcing segregation and suppressing Black voting rights would remain in place for the better part of a century.
"Of Course He Votes the Democratic Ticket" (1876)
A political cartoon printed during The Reconstruction Era in Harper's Weekly depicting the intimidation techniques that the Democratic Party used to suppress southern black votes in the election of 1876.
A terrible price had to be paid, in a tragic, calamitous civil war, before this new democracy could be rid of that most undemocratic institution. But for black Americans the end of slavery was just the beginning of our quest for democratic equality; another century would pass before the nation came fully to embrace that goal. Even now millions of Americans recognizably of African descent languish in societal backwaters. What does this say about our civic culture as we enter a new century?
In the Ghettos, the source of Democratic votes; crime, drug addiction, family breakdown, unemployment, poor school performance, welfare dependency, and general decay in these communities constitute a blight on our society. black ghetto dwellers are a people apart, susceptible to stereotyping, stigmatized for their cultural styles, isolated socially, experiencing an internalized sense of helplessness and despair, with limited access to communal networks of mutual assistance. Their purported criminality, sexual profligacy, and intellectual inadequacy are the frequent objects of public derision. In a word, they suffer a pariah status. It should not require enormous powers of perception to see how this degradation relates to the shameful history of black-white race relations in this country.
And from history, we see the Klu Klux Klan, a Democratic organization, and now Democratic run ghettos!
Lyndon Baines Johnson, a power hungry, war mongering, beer-swilling, blunt-speaking Democrat said,
This quote appears on page 155 of Goodwin’s LBJ biography. The utterance was made to Richard Russell, a fellow Democratic Senator from Georgia.
The Democrats are the racist and use racism to divide Americans against each other. What defines us of who we are is culture. The Democrats are experts of cultural engineering, such as keeping people poor, families fatherless, uneducated, and dependent on the state. The Democrats use scare tactics saying the other party will take their livelihood and promise them the world if the poor vote for them.
The majority African-American enclaves found in every major US city are no accident of history. And, although societal racism certainly played its part, de facto segregation isn’t the prime culprit for the urban divide. In this animation (Segregated By Design), adapted from his book The Color of Law (2017), the US historian Richard Rothstein explains with devastating precision how decades of brazenly intentional racist local, state and federal government housing policies led to the current status quo. While this history was once widely understood, the extent of these efforts – including their origins in Franklin D Roosevelt’s New Deal public housing initiatives – have been forgotten, even as their lasting effects are omnipresent. In reviving this history, Rothstein details the multitude of ways these policies are still affecting African-American communities, and offers a remedy for the generations of harm. He argues that state-sponsored segregation efforts were unconstitutional at their very inception, and must be reckoned with both in the courts and with new policy that acknowledges the pernicious legacy of housing discrimination in the US.
Before I go on, I thought I would introduce myself. Although I was never in Vietnam, I still got involved in that war.
I went to high school in North Central Arkansas, in what many referred to as “Them there hills of the Ozarks”; that was from 1964 through 1968. I was supposed to graduate in 1968 but flunked out of the literature class, the teacher and I didn’t get along, she wanted to teach the Theory of Evolution, not that I have anything against that theory, I just didn’t think literature class was the place to teach it. Things got so bad between she and I my father suggested that I keep copies of all my grades. Except for that class, I was nearly a straight A student, in fact all the kids called me the four eyed professor.
I was really into Electronics, and my father helped me run electricity into the old Smoke House that was behind the house, and that was my workshop. Yes, the farm was that old that it had a smoke House.
I was also a member of the local chapter of the Civil Air Patrol and acted as the Communications Officer, and had a CAP Radio in my shop as well as a radio I built.
I was always telling my Science Teacher about my electronics project, he asked me to bring one to class, and explain to the class what it was, and how it worked. I built a low power FM radio transmitter and brought it to class and demonstrated it to the class explaining how it worked. The Teacher took a desk in front of the class taking notes. That is how I got the name Four Eyed Professor. I was severely bullied and got into lots of fights.
I passed the Armed Forces Vocational Aptitude Battery and (ASVAB) Armed Forces Qualification Test (AFQT). When I selected the MOS the recruiter scheduled me for the next class at Fort Bliss Texas, and I went in on the Delayed entry program.
I attended Basic Training at Fort Polk Louisiana from 1 September 1969 to 24 October 1969.
After Basic Training I was transferred to Fort Bliss Texas for training in the repair of Fire Control Radars and Control Center of the HAWK Missile System MOS 24F20. From October 1969 to 22 July 1970 at Fort Bliss TX.
There were 7 Koreans, 7 Americans, 2 Danish, and 2 Greek students in our class. The top three students were the two Danish Sergeants, and myself.
At first, I was assigned to the Officer Student Battalion (OSB) for training on some electronic equipment (rembass-450 and system).
After completing that course of instruction, I then was assigned to the 591st Military Police Company for training in hand-to-hand combat, 16 gauge pump action shotgun, 45 caliber pistol, how to choose and set up defensive positions, and so on.
A friend and his pregnant wife took me to a well-known bar in Juarez Mexico. A few minutes after we were seated a pretty Mexican lady asked me to buy her a drink, I shook my head and said no, my friend and his wife said, oh Julius be nice and buy the lady a drink, she sat down next to me and I bought her a drink. The Mexican lady looked at my friend’s wife seeing that she was pregnant, pointed at her belly and asked if she was with child, and when my friend’s wife said yes, the Mexican lady started to cry and said that she wanted to marry and have children of her own. My friend’s wife said, “Julius you should marry that pretty lady,” and my friend said the same thing. I was intrigued by the idea of having a wife, a reason to come home, so I asked her to give me her address and directions to her house. My friend and his wife volunteered to take me to her house the next day. After visiting with her and her family the next day, I proposed to her and we started making plans to marry. I spent the next week with her, she took me to meet her father and the rest of her family, and then we got married. After two weeks I had to leave for my duty assignment in Laos, she couldn’t understand why I was leaving her, and when I told her that I was going to Laos to support the war in Vietnam she cried. I told her that I would come back to her in about six months, by then I would be eligible for R&R (Rest and relaxation) R&R is vacation for soldiers that are in a combat zone.
I flew out of Biggs Army Air Field to Travis Air Force Base November 1970 where I met up with a squad of Marines and about 4 Navy Seals, we then flew to Bangkok Thailand and then caught another MAC flight to Nakhon Phanom. At Nakhon Phanom we met the mountain yard men, some people called them The Mountain People. They were real good at navigating through the jungle and avoiding the NVA. They acted as our guides into Laos, and once we got to our base camp, of which the Mountain yard Men had already built for us, they brought in our supplies once a week.
Most of my stay at the base camp in Laos was boring as hell, and the damn monkeys would steal anything they could get their hands on. When we would chase them away, they would scream bloody murder and get the whole jungle in a noisy panic, we were so worried that the noise would attract the attention of the NVA. We really looked forward to going on patrol even though it was dangerous, just to have something to do.
We discovered that one of our guys was missing. We took up a defensive position and radioed the base camp informing them of our missing guy. During this whole time, I had the terrible feeling that we were being setup.
We were told to look for him and try to rescue him if he was captured and still alive. After about 3 hours of looking for him, we did find him. He was tied to a tree with his penis in his mouth. They had cut it off after torturing him and after he bled to death, they stuck it into his mouth. We cut him loose from the tree and we started back to the base camp. As we were going back to the base camp, I got the feeling that we were being followed, we again took up a defensive position and radioed base camp for instructions. Our mission was compromised. We were instructed to proceed to the base camp and they were going to set up an ambush for the NVA that was following us. The NVA was highly trained, highly motivated, and very brave. They were damn good soldiers. They knew that we would try to ambush them. Just as we started up the mountain all hell broke out, they were throwing everything they had at us, small arms fire, mortars, rockets, and heavy artillery. We did make it back to the base camp. We got orders from higher command to destroy what couldn't be carried with us. It was starting to get dark, so they couldn't evacuate us until morning. So, we fought all night, but we did have air support. I don't think we could have come home alive if not for the air support.
They sent in Puff The Magic Dragon (ac-130 aircraft with all kinds of guns in it, such as a minigun).
The next morning, they sent in helicopters to get us off that mountain before we were overrun by the NVA. Something exploded right behind me as I was running for one of the helicopters throwing me into the air, I guess I landed with all my weight on my right leg that shoved the ball of my right hip through the socket. I was laying on the ground with the wind knocked out of my lungs, I was gasping for breath, and I had extreme pain in the small of my back. A couple of guys picked me up and put me into the helicopter. The helicopter took small arms fire and the transmission sounded like it was going to come out of the helicopter. The nearest place we could go was Nakhon Phanom Thailand. There was a US Army base there with a field hospital. The US Navy flew in a surgeon from an aircraft carrier that was stationed off the gulf of Tokin, he put a stainless-steel screw into my right hip. As I was being processed out of the hospital, they gave me a box that had my name on it, it contained a rembass-450 sensor, and the prc-90 radio I used. I was told they were in my pockets when I was brought into the hospital. Those jungle fatigues had big baggy pockets.
Notice; nothing in my orders shows that I was ever in Laos, that is due to the fact WE WERE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THERE! I was also told that I was never to talk about it. But now, there are Army videos showing U.S. troops emplacing sensors on the Ho Chi Minh trail.
There were several types of sensors, depending on how they were deployed. The Air dropped sensor were easily found by the NVA and destroyed. The most effective were the hand emplaced as seen about 7 minutes into the video. The one shown is the old type, we used the newer model, of which were smaller, about the palm of the hand, and were easily emplaced. We would emplace the unit near some underbrush off the ground to keep it dry, and wrap the antennae around a vine.
We would go out once a week to replace them with units that had fresh batteries.
It was here in Germany that I saw the problems the politicians made for the army as for race relations. There were several race riots in the barracks while I was in Germany. It must be remembered why? I didn't see it, because I was never in Vietnam, but I saw it on TV, seems like that war was fought in our living room, as shown during the nightly news. Then when I got to Germany I was told about it from the people who experienced it.
African American, Native American, Asian American, Hispanic, Puerto Rican, and White Americans who come from poor families fought and died in that war. These were the people who couldn’t get a college deferment like many Politicians did. This made for very bad feelings.
It seemed like the Army sent most people who served their time in combat were sent to Germany before going home to the States.
From an article in the The New York Times
By Thomas A. Johnson; Special to The New York Times
Nov. 23, 1970
SCHWEINFURT, West Germany — “They keep asking, What's the problem, what's the problem?’ “ Sgt. James Anthony, a 20‐year‐old black, exclaimed bitterly at the mention of a Pentagon team investigating racial disorders among American soldiers in West Germany.
“Hell,” he said, referring to the white man in general, “he knows the problem! He is the problem!”
The sergeant, a native of East St. Louis, Ill., is a squad leader. He wears granny glasses perched on his nose and an Afro hairstyle — “packed down during the day and combed out at night.” He went on, his anger rising:
“The black man's got no business being in the Army if this mess keeps up. They keep killing our people back home and we're still being sent out to the Nam! We fight there and then we're shipped to Germany and we fill the jails here.”
I'll be referring to this article again.
I remember a white Staff Sergeant that reported into the unit had a chest full of medals, we were told that he was a war hero. The story went that as they were boarding a helicopter in a hot zone the platoon leader was hit by small arms fire, the Staff Sergeant jumped out to aid the platoon leader. The Staff Sergeant was a short skinny young man, he told everybody that he wanted to be called the “Kid.”
The Kid was a fighter, he was always picking fights, didn’t matter who. He was always getting into trouble, and always getting busted, losing stripes. Wasn’t long after reporting into the unit as a Staff Sergeant, he got busted down to buck private, and eventually had his medals taken away from him and kicked out of the army. This made me wonder if that was the reason the Army sent veterans to Germany before sending them home, time for them to work out their hostility.
Must be remembered the Army inherited this problem and that awful war from the politicians, in particular the Democrats.
President Kennedy sent two aides to Vietnam, McNamara and Taylor, who gathered intelligence that convinced him that the United States needed to withdraw from Vietnam. Their memo to the president was entitled, Report of McNamara-Taylor Mission to South Vietnam.
With this report in hand, President Kennedy had what he wanted. It contained the essence of decisions he had to make. He had to get re-elected to finish programs set in motion during his first term; he had to get Americans out of Vietnam. — Col. L. Fletcher Prouty, JFK: The CIA, Vietnam, and The Plot to Assassinate John F. Kennedy, Carol Publishing Group, p. 264.
President Kennedy began to de-escalate America’s involvement in Vietnam shortly before his death. The day after his brutal murder, the following occurred:
At 8:30 a.m., Saturday, the 23rd of November, 1963, the limousine carrying CIA director John McCone pulled into the White House grounds…. He was also there to transact one piece of business prior to becoming involved in all the details entailed in a presidential transition — the signing of National Security Memorandum 278, a classified document which immediately reversed John Kennedy’s decision to de-escalate the war in Vietnam. The effect of Memorandum 278 would give the Central Intelligence Agency carte blanche to proceed with a full-scale war in the Far East…. In effect, as of November 23, 1963, the Far East would replace Cuba as the thorn in America’s side. It would also create a whole new source of narcotics for the Mafia’s worldwide markets. — Robert Morrow, First Hand Knowledge, Shapolsky Publishers, p. 249.
The day after Kennedy was killed, the decision to stop America’s involvement in Vietnam was reversed and the Vatican’s program continued.
Jean Hill was also a witness to the Kennedy murder. In her book, entitled JFK: The Last Dissenting Witness, she states that during a conversation her friend, J.B., who was one of the policemen in the motorcade that was with Kennedy, told her, Lyndon Johnson, the vice president of the United States, was apparently having a real problem.
“What are you talking about?” Jean asked innocently. “I don’t understand.” “My friends in the motorcade say he started ducking down in the car a good 30 or 40 seconds before the first shots were fired. I’d say that’s just a little peculiar, wouldn’t you?” “Oh, come on, J.B,” Jean Hill said, thinking he had to be joking. “They obviously weren’t serious, were they?” “As far as I know they were dead serious.” J.B. said. “One of them told Maguire that he saw Johnson duck down even before the car turned onto Houston Street, and he sure as __ wasn’t laughing when he said it.” “Well, maybe Johnson just dropped something on the floor and bent over to pick it up. I mean there can be a simple explanation.” “Maybe so.” J.B. said. “I don’t claim to know what his reasons were but this guy said it sure looked like he was expecting bullets to be flying. When I heard it, it made me start wondering about a whole lot of other stuff too.” — Ibid. pp. 114–116.
Lyndon Johnson was acting as if he knew bullets would soon be flying, ducking down repeatedly before the shots went off.
Texas law prohibits people that die in the state of Texas from being removed without an autopsy. Leading doctors at Parkland Memorial Hospital in Dallas were held at gunpoint as the body of John F. Kennedy was removed from that hospital without an autopsy. Why? There was overwhelming evidence that there was more than one bullet that killed JFK. There was overwhelming evidence that the Warren Commission report was nothing but lies. There were many bullets that the doctors would have found that would have shattered the idea that Lee Harvey Oswald was the lone gunman. That is why an autopsy was not allowed in Texas. That is why Kennedy’s body was shipped to Washington D.C. where a federal autopsy could be made, where they could fabricate the evidence to support the lies of the Warren commission. There was a Jesuit led conspiracy to kill JFK and they didn’t want the evidence to get out, no matter how many people had to be killed in the process.
There were many people who knew a great deal about the Kennedy assassination. Unfortunately, almost all of them died under mysterious circumstances. There was a concerted effort to be sure that no secrets were ever told. Even Jean Hill stated that several attempts were made to kill her and her children.
Jim Marrs, author of Crossfire: The Plot That Killed Kennedy, wrote: “In the three-year period which followed the murder of President Kennedy and Lee Harvey Oswald, 18 material witnesses died — six by gunfire, three in motor accidents, two by suicide, one from a cut throat, one from a karate chop to the neck, five from natural causes.” …A mathematician hired by the London Sunday Times in February of 1967 concluded that the odds of the number of witnesses involved in the assassination of John F. Kennedy dying between November 22, 1963 and that date were 100,000 trillion to one…. In the time period ranging from November 22, 1963 to August 1993 over 115 ‘witnesses’ have died or fallen victim to death by strange circumstances, suicides or murder. — Craig Roberts and John Armstrong, JFK: The Dead Witnesses, Consolidated Press, p. 3.
Returning to the article in the New York Times
A black sergeant first class with 18 years' service said his infantry outfit “no longer functions like an Army platoon but like two street gangs.” And a white junior officer complained: “Racial problems take all my time—now and then I get around to running a company.”
Staff Sergeant Holt Massey (An African American) was my assistant section chief. The PA/BCC section only consisted four people, Sgt Woodson, Sgt Massey, myself and one other, I forget his name. I remember when I reported to Sgt Woodson, I was bragging about all that I had learned at School. Sgt Woodson said, well the PAR (Pulse Acquisition Radar) needed a weekly check performed. So, I got the manual for it, and an operator to help me. We were both new to the unit, and had no experience on the equipment. Due to miscommunication between us, we made a serious mistake that resulted in downing the radar (Radar did not work anymore) and it was serious. I came off radar hill, and reported the problem to Sgt Woodson. This was serious, and meant the Battery was off line and the Battery Commander pulling down time. (NOT GOOD)! This also reflected badly on Sgt Woodson. I could see it in his face, Sgt Woodson was angry, VERY ANGRY, I could see it, he wanted so much to severely chew me out from one end to the other. But he didn’t! He never told me; but I think he saw in me, an eagerness to learn, and do a good job. I think that what was going thru his mind, that if he chewed me out like he wanted to, would scare me to the point that I would shy away from working on the equipment. The fact that Sgt Woodson held back, earned my deepest respect for him.
Sgt Woodson calmly and mildly told me that he was going to take me under his wing, and that I would be his shadow, and that everywhere he went, I would go, he also said that if he went to the bathroom, I had better be there holding his hand; of course, that part was a joke. He continued saying that I was not to work on the equipment without him being present, he gave me a green memo book and told me that he was going to teach me everything he knew about the equipment, and that he had better see me write it all down in that memo book. He also said that I was not to do manning (24-hour duty on the tactical site) until he feels I am ready. In a way, that was a blessing, Sgt Woodson was fun to be with, always joking and laughing, and I did learn from him. I took great pride in working for him.
I don’t know what it was about me, but I got along with the Blacks and other minorities in the Battery. Could be Sgt Woodson and Sgt Massey had something to do with that. As I mentioned before, there were several race riots in the Barracks, but each time, either Sgt Woodson, or Sgt Massey would tell me that I had better spend the night at the tac site; the tac site had a barracks, and mess hall.
I would hear about the riot the next morning.
New York Times
Military spokesmen are quick to contend that, in the main, black and white soldiers get along without fighting—that they keep the military machine functioning with a good deal more integration and equal opportunity than most American civilian institutions.
That is true, in large, for across West Germany black and white soldiers can be observed working together, playing in organized athletics and pushing truck convoys along the autobahns.
During Oktoberfest this year, blacks and whites were seen in several German cities eating bratwurst and drinking and singing along with the Germans. In some instances blacks and whites could be seen drinking in the same bars.
For the most part, this is what I saw, but their were those occasions where a riot would break out in the barracks. Somehow SGT Woodson, and SGT Massey would learn about potential trouble breaking out in the Barracks and they would come to me saying, "word is that there will be trouble in the barracks tonight, you should spend the night at the Tac Site". I wondered how they knew about it, but never asked.
New York Times
Nonetheless, blacks and whites have clashed here with increasing frequency, with some loss of life and with numerous injuries. Blacks and whites tend to go their separate ways when they relax and, for the most part, activist organizations formed in recent months have been racially exclusive.
From my observation Drug Abuse was rampant, you can walk down the hall during evenings and weekends and get high from the smoke from hashish. I even got mixed up in that, never dare a Hillbilly!
I was assigned to a four man room, during the first night in the room, the guys asked me if would mind if they were to light one up! I didn't know what they were talking about. They said dope man, dope, they were looking at me like I was a dumbass. I was curious as to what it would do to them, so I said, LIGHT IT UP! I would sit there watching them. One night they said "want to try it" I said, nah don't need it, they said I dare you! That's all it took. Thing was, I didn't even smoke cigarettes', I was puffing on it, and they said, inhale man, INHALE! So I tried, and after coughing my head off, I got higher than a kite, AND I LIKED IT!
It seemed like pot was the peace pipe, didn't seem like it mattered weather it was Black, white, Hispanic, or whatever you wanted to call yourself, smoking pot was like the peace pipe, and we were all brothers.
This sentence from The New York Time "for the most part, activist organizations formed in recent months have been racially exclusive." Must be true!
I was buying and smoking pot up till the late 80's. I was working at the China Lake Naval Air Warfare center, and the Navy announced that they were going to start drug testing, I loved my job more than the pot, so I quit.
From the New York Times
Among the younger black soldiers—blacks make up some 13 per cent of the Army in West Germany — there has been a fairly recent turnabout in attitudes.
Three years ago black troops in Vietnam, where they have suffered 16 per cent of the combat fatalities and have won 20 percent of the Medals of Honor, told newsmen, “We're proving ourselves.”
“And still not a damn thing has changed for black people,” said S. Sgt. Wesley Smith, a 21‐ year‐old combat‐engineer supervisor in Bad Hersfeld, giving voice to the current attitude.
Like many of the younger black soldiers, the sergeant, a native of Atlanta, is no longer content with the visible and highly publicized racial success stories, both at home and in the military. Rather, he sees a growing list of racial failures.
Specialist 4 William Holland, who is chairman of the Unsatisfied Black Soldier, explained that he and other leaders felt that it was “much better to try to change the system from within the system.”
Rallies, like one that attracted some 700 black, white, Mexican and Puerto Rican soldiers, in Kaiserslautern in October have been replete with bitter condemnations of American racism and have warned of possible wide‐scale violence.
‘What Can They Do?’
“What can they do?” a speaker asked. “Call out the National Guard? How can they call out the National Guard on the Army?”
The ((Kitzingen)) soldier activists made their recommendations—despite the rhetorical flourishes—concerned improvements in conditions in the service and the elimination of racism at home. Many of them are system‐oriented now, but many observers here wonder how long that will be the case.
“If America is really serious about selling democracy around the world,” said Specialist Holland, “just have white America end racism. We put a man on the moon, we can do anything we are committed to doing. The real question in Germany today is whether America would rather get rid of Unsatisfied Black Soldiers or end racism.”
LOL This was a busy day for me.
One time while on duty as SOG I got a call from the TCO (Tactical Control Officer), he told me to get my report pad and meet him at the generator section. What had happened is that one of our guys took his VW bus with his wife in it to the generator section and stealing gas, the TCO caught him while he was making his security rounds. While I was writing up the report, I got another call from the TCO and he told that shots had been reported coming from the front gate. I couldn't hear the shots due to the noise coming for the generators.
I ran to the front gate and the TCO was already there, he arrested the gate guard (who was drunk) and replaced him with another guard. The TCO told me that the guy who was stealing gas, gave the gate guard a bottle of Jim Beam to let him into the Tac Site. The TCO counted the rounds in the magazine, it was discovered that the top round was okay, but all the ones below it were spent rounds. The gate guards are issued a magazine of 18 rounds of live ammunition.
About this time the gate guard that had been arrested jumped in a truck and was on his way to the gate, he crashed through the gate and headed towards the barracks, where the MPs arrested him.
Now we had to find out what the shooting was all about, the gate guard was taking pot shots at the trucks in the motor pool.
Standing in front of the guard shack at the front gate, the motor pool can be seen behind us. The gate guard had shot out the headlights and tires of some of the trucks and jeeps.
