She weighed 78 pounds. Three years as a Japanese POW. Starving. Sick with beriberi and TB. Still nursing the dying in a Philippine camp the enemy planned to wipe out. On February 23, 1945, U.S. paratroopers and Filipino guerrillas hit Los Baños. Chief Nurse Laura Cobb gave one order: protect the babies with your life. Lt. Margaret “Peggy” Nash took a nine-day-old girl. Bullets hit the beach. She covered that baby with her own body, then held her over her head when the amtrac flooded. Two Bronze Stars. POW Medal. Navy nurse. American. They don’t make them like this anymore. Remember her.

When Lafayette was buried in Paris, his son covered the coffin with American dirt carried from Bunker Hill. He had wanted even more than that. On his farewell tour of America in 1824, Lafayette collected earth from every state he visited, planning to be buried in all of it. But the steamboat carrying it sank in the Ohio River, so he gathered soil from Bunker Hill instead and brought it safely home to France. He died in Paris in 1834. His son spread the American dirt over his grave exactly as he had wished. That son's name was Georges Washington de Lafayette. Decades earlier, while Lafayette sat in a foreign prison during the French Revolution, George Washington had taken in the boy and kept him safe in America. An American flag flies over his grave to this day. It never came down, not even when the Nazis held Paris. No one from another nation ever belonged to America the way Lafayette did.

Ain’t that the truth !!

MSM latest 🚨

This is not satire. I ored this and they ask if I want room for milk.

Britain Apologizes For Disrupting Whatever It Was Nice Muslim Men Were Doing buff.ly/pjHbkZB

Japan laid a submarine trap for America’s aircraft carriers. 🇺🇸 It expected the mighty U.S. Pacific Fleet. Instead, it found a 306-foot destroyer escort that simply refused to stop hunting. USS England was no battleship. She was a small, lightly armed workhorse built to protect convoys. But she carried a deadly new weapon: the Hedgehog, which fired 24 contact bombs ahead of the ship. On May 19, 1944, England attacked the Japanese submarine I-16. Four times, she missed. Four times, her crew turned the ship around and charged again. The fifth salvo struck. The underwater explosion lifted England’s stern and knocked sailors off their feet. That was only the beginning! Working with USS George and USS Raby, England hunted down one submarine after another. Whenever an attack failed, the little escort regained contact and went back in. I-16: Sunk RO-106: Sunk RO-104: Sunk RO-116: Sunk RO-108: Sunk After two other escorts repeatedly failed to destroy RO-105, the frustrated task group commander finally gave the order: “Oh, hell. Go ahead, England!” And... RO-105: Sunk! Six Japanese submarines in twelve days, an achievement never matched by another U.S. ship during World War II! Admiral King declared: "There’ll always be an England in the United States Navy". But the last USS England was decommissioned in 1994. His promise is still waiting to be kept. ⚓️🇺🇸 She was not the biggest or most powerful ship in the Pacific. She was simply the most relentless. Follow @Vanguard_WW2 for more incredible stories from World War II.

Frank Perconte is portrayed by James Madio in "Band of Brothers". He is pictured here in a September 1945 newspaper photo reading "The Three Little Pigs" to his 23-month-old son, Richard, whom he had never met. Perconte was wounded twice while fighting with Easy Company and was given the Purple Heart with oak leaf cluster. He returned home from WWII to his wife, Evelyn, and they would remain happily married for 61 years until her passing in 2003. Frank Perconte worked as a mail carrier after the war. Most of the people on his route had no idea about the sacrifices he had made for his country. #bandofbrothers #ww2 #easycompany #WWII

One of Robert ‘Popeye’ Wynn’s most memorable scenes in Band of Brothers is when he apologizes profusely for getting shot in the buttocks during the Brecourt Manor Assault on D-Day. Of Popeye getting hit, Dick Winters said the following in his memoir, “As we approached the first gun, Popeye Wynn was hit in the butt and fell down in the trench. Rather than complaining that he was hit, he apologized, ‘I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I goofed. I’m sorry.’ My God, it’s beautiful when you think of a guy who was so dedicated to his company that he apologizes for getting hit. Now, here was a soldier—hit by enemy fire in Normandy on D-Day, behind the German lines, and he is more upset that he had let his buddies down than he was concerned with his own injury. Popeye’s actions spoke for all of us.” #bandofbrothers #ww2 #easycompany #WWII

“We should not be surprised to find the left concentrated in institutions where ideas do not have to work in order to survive.” ― Thomas Sowell

Pete Townshend The Who

On this day in 1942, an ordinary American cargo ship with a single old gun ran into a heavily armed German warship in the middle of the ocean, refused to surrender, and sank it. It is the only time in the entire war that a United States merchant ship destroyed a German surface warship, and the way it happened is almost beyond belief. This is the SS Stephen Hopkins. The Stephen Hopkins was a Liberty ship, one of the plain, mass produced freighters churned out by American shipyards to haul cargo across the oceans. She was not built to fight. Her only real weapon was a single four inch gun mounted on her stern, an old gun manned by a small crew of Navy armed guards and merchant sailors, meant for desperate self defense and nothing more. On the morning of September 27, in the South Atlantic, the Hopkins came out of a curtain of fog and rain and found herself almost on top of two German ships. One was the Stier, a purpose built commerce raider, a warship in disguise bristling with six large guns and torpedo tubes, each of her shells many times the weight of anything the Hopkins could throw. The other was her supply ship. The Germans signaled the American freighter to stop and surrender. Captain Paul Buck refused. He ordered his crew to battle stations and told his single gun to open fire. What followed was a brutal, point blank slugging match between a warship and a cargo ship that had no business fighting one. The Stier's heavy guns tore the Hopkins apart, smashing her engines, setting her ablaze, killing men all across the ship. But the Hopkins gave it back. Her lone four inch gun hammered the German raider again and again, scoring hit after hit low on the hull near the waterline, wrecking the Stier's steering and engine room and starting fires the Germans could not control. Then came the moment that made the fight a legend. The Hopkins's gun crew was cut down, killed and wounded around their weapon. An eighteen year old engine room cadet named Edwin O'Hara, who had escaped the burning engine spaces and knew a little about the gun, ran aft to the shattered, undermanned weapon. With five shells left in the ready box, O'Hara loaded and fired them himself, one after another, single handedly, slamming his last rounds into the German raider. He was mortally wounded doing it. Both ships were doomed. The Stephen Hopkins, blazing and broken, finally went down. But the Stier was hurt even worse. So badly damaged she could not be saved, the German raider was scuttled by her own crew less than two hours later. The little Liberty ship had killed her. The cost was terrible. Most of the Hopkins's crew died, including Captain Buck and young O'Hara. Only fifteen men got away in a lifeboat, and they drifted across the open Atlantic for about a month before finally reaching the coast of Brazil to tell the story. Captain Buck and Cadet O'Hara were honored for their gallantry, and the Stephen Hopkins was enshrined as a gallant ship, the humble freighter that took on a German warship gun to gun and sent it to the bottom on this day in 1942.

Here is a man who won one of the first great American victories of the Revolution without fighting a battle. He was not a soldier. He was a fat, cheerful Boston bookseller with no military training, and what he pulled off in the winter of 1775 into 1776 is one of the most staggering feats of sheer willpower and logistics in American history. His name was Henry Knox. Knox learned war the way he learned everything: from books. He ran a fashionable bookshop in Boston, and he devoured the military engineering and artillery treatises on his own shelves. When the Revolution broke out, that self-taught knowledge suddenly mattered, because the American army besieging British-held Boston had a fatal problem. They had the enemy penned in the city, but they had almost no heavy cannon to force them out. It was a stalemate, and stalemates favored the British. Knox had an audacious idea. Nearly 300 miles away, at Fort Ticonderoga in upstate New York, sat a treasure of captured British artillery, dozens of heavy cannon and mortars taken earlier in the war. What if someone went and got them? Brought the guns to Boston? Everyone could see the problem: it was winter, the route ran through frozen lakes, rivers, forests, and the snowbound Berkshire mountains, and the guns weighed a combined 60 tons. Sixty tons. It sounded impossible. Washington gave the 25-year-old bookseller the job anyway. And Knox did it. He got to Ticonderoga and set to work dismantling and hauling out around 59 pieces of artillery, some of them massive. He had 40 heavy sledges specially built. He rounded up teams of oxen, dozens and dozens of them, and boats to move the guns across the water before the freeze. And then, through the brutal heart of a New England winter, he dragged 120,000 pounds of iron and brass across a frozen wilderness. Picture it. Cannon lashed to sleds, oxen straining in the snow, men breaking through ice, hauling the guns up and then carefully down the icy slopes of the Berkshires, where a runaway sled could be a disaster. Guns broke through frozen rivers and had to be fished out. It was backbreaking, dangerous, freezing work, mile after mile, week after week. And this untested bookseller held it all together by force of personality and organization. In under two months, he brought the entire "noble train of artillery" 300 miles through the dead of winter, and in late January 1776 he reported to Washington that the guns had arrived. Then came the payoff. On a single night in early March, Washington's men quietly hauled Knox's cannon up onto Dorchester Heights, the high ground overlooking Boston and its harbor. When the British woke up, they found the American army suddenly looking down their throats with heavy artillery that could smash their ships and their positions. Their commander realized the city was untenable. And so, rather than fight, the British evacuated Boston entirely on March 17, 1776, and sailed away. The Americans had liberated a major city without a battle, because a bookseller had done the impossible with oxen and sleds and nerve. Knox never looked back. He became Washington's chief of artillery for the rest of the war, the man whose guns crossed the Delaware to Trenton and pounded the British into surrender at Yorktown, and after the war he became the young nation's first Secretary of War. Fort Knox is named for him. But his greatest monument is that winter journey. Remember Henry Knox, the bookseller who read about artillery in his shop, then went out and dragged 60 tons of it across a frozen wilderness to hand George Washington the guns that freed Boston.

Ouch 😂😂😂

July 17, 2022. Greenwood Park Mall, Indiana. A mass shooter armed with an assault rifle and 100+ rounds opened fire in the food court. Families dove under tables in terror. Blood on the tile floor. Across the food court was 22-year-old Elisjsha Dicken. He had no military background. No law enforcement training. Just an ordinary American boy who practiced shooting with his grandfather. He didn't run. He hid his girlfriend behind a trash can, unholstered his Glock, and moved toward the gunfire. From forty yards away—an impossible distance for a pistol under combat stress—Eli braced against a pillar. In FIFTEEN SECONDS, he fired ten rounds. Eight hit the shooter. The killer fell dead before police even arrived. The Police Chief walked up to the cameras: "Many more people would have died tonight if it weren't for a responsible armed citizen. This young man is a true American hero." The media tells you guns are the problem. Elisjsha Dicken proved that a good man with a gun is the solution. 🇺🇸🎯🦅

Blake & 18th. Yesterday a vagrant tried to steal a woman’s bag. Witnesses say he knocked her to the ground, assaulted her, pulled her hair, and bit her. Witnesses report that it still took four guys and pepper spray to get him off her. Bet you didn’t hear about this on the news. @denversmayor

On this exact day in 1780, three ordinary militiamen stopped a stranger on a road, searched him, found treason hidden in his boot, turned down a small fortune to let him walk, and in doing so saved West Point and possibly the whole Revolution. Their names were John Paulding, Isaac Van Wart, and David Williams, and almost no one remembers them. They were not famous soldiers. They were young New York farmers, part of the informal patrols that watched the dangerous no-man's-land north of British-occupied New York City, a lawless strip crawling with raiders and spies from both sides. On the morning of September 23, near Tarrytown, they stopped a well-dressed rider who called himself John Anderson. Here is where luck and character collided. The rider, seeing rough men in mixed clothing, guessed wrong and assumed they were Loyalists like himself, and he let slip that he was a British officer. The instant he realized his mistake, he tried to backtrack, but it was too late. The three militiamen were suspicious now, and they decided to search him. They made him strip, and inside his stockings, tucked into his boot, David Williams found folded papers, detailed plans of the American fortress at West Point, its defenses, its garrison, its weaknesses. They had no idea, in that moment, that the man was Major John André, head of British intelligence, or that the papers had been handed to him by Benedict Arnold himself in a treason plot to sell West Point to the enemy. But they knew they had caught something enormous. And then came the test that made them heroes. André, desperate, tried to buy his freedom. He offered them his fine horse, his watch, and money, and by the account given at his trial, a bribe of a thousand guineas in gold, an almost unimaginable sum for three farmers of modest means, enough to change their lives forever. All they had to do was let him ride away. They said no. Three poor young men, offered a fortune to look the other way, refused it, and instead marched their prisoner to the nearest American officer. That single act of plain honesty unraveled the entire conspiracy. The papers exposed the plot to betray West Point. Arnold barely escaped to a British ship. André was tried and hanged. And the fortress that guarded the Hudson, the linchpin of the American position, was saved. The young nation understood what it owed them. Congress voted the three men the very first military decoration in American history, a silver medal called the Fidelity Medallion, its reverse inscribed with a Latin motto meaning "the love of country conquers." Each also received a lifetime pension and a farm. George Washington himself presented them their medals. Remember Paulding, Van Wart, and Williams. Not generals, not statesmen, just three farmers on patrol who happened to stop the right man on the right morning, and who then proved that they could not be bought at any price. The Revolution was saved that day not by a brilliant plan or a famous hero, but by ordinary men who were simply, stubbornly honest when a fortune said they should not be.

The Left has to constantly change the name of their hoaxes to keep the fear alive and make it seem more scary. Global Warming to Climate Change to Climate Crisis to Climate Emergency to Climate Catastrophe. And on, and on. All to scam you out of your money and control you.

🚨INCREDIBLE: During a multi-vehicle collision on the Route 90 bridge in Ocean City, Maryland, a 2-year-old girl was ejected from a pickup truck, falling nearly 30 feet into the Assawoman Bay below. Jonathan Bauer, who was driving across the bridge with his teenage daughter when the crash occurred, rushed over to inspect the wreckage. Looking down into the water, he saw the toddler floating face down and becoming unresponsive. Without hesitation, Bauer instructed his daughter to flag down first responders, removed his shoes, and leapt off the bridge into the bay. He swam to the little girl, lifted her onto his shoulder, and patted her back until she coughed up water and began breathing again. A passing pontoon boat quickly navigated toward them, pulling both Bauer and the toddler out of the water and transporting them to shore, where emergency personnel were waiting. The child was airlifted to a regional medical center for evaluation and released the following day in good condition. Bauer was later honored by local law enforcement and civic leaders for his decisive actions and selflessness.

These depressions in the ground are exhumed mass graves that held nearly 9,000 victims of one of the killing fields used by the Khmer Rouge communist regime from 1976–79 near Phnom Penh, Cambodia. I visited Choeung Ek, also known as the Killing Fields. Those accused of being “enemies” of the communist revolution were rounded up, imprisoned and tortured across Cambodia before being sent to execution sites like this one. Their family members, including young children, were also exterminated. Because Khmer Rouge soldiers had limited access to ammunition, most victims were killed with farm tools and other objects, or by being beaten against trees. Their bodies were then dumped into mass graves. The exhumed remains of thousands of victims are now kept in a memorial beside the field. Support my journalism at ngocomment.com