As we dropped altitude and closed in on the beachhead, the Spectre groaned as Cowboy banked hard to the left. The call sign suited him well. He always wore an old straw farm hat, and those non-issue chrome plated sunglasses. I could never figure out how he got away with having them. He was always smiling, and he was the best pilot I had ever known.

Tommy the crows nest operator tapped me on the shoulder, and as I turned, I noticed a screen shot of the area we had just past. He shouted to me over the roar of the cannons.

"Do you recognize this geographic?"

"Yea we just flew by it," I called back to him.

"First CAV is about to get a rude awakening down there. We got Cubans flanking from the left, looks to be 30 or 40 men. The CAV's pinned down hard right now, and the Cubans are closing fast. When we make the next pass, paint the mark."

"Got it," I shouted.

"Remember, we are gonna be in close proximity to the big red one, so make sure you don't hose the whole place down."

"Give me a shout when we reach the mark," I said. I was exhausted from strafing the area with the chain gun. The vibration of the ship melded together with the constant side-to-side motion from the 105 mm howitzer, and the cannon fire could wear a man out in no time. Not to mention that god-awful hole at my feet, a result of the last burst of flak. It was making a horrible sucking sound now, as if it wanted to take my very soul.

Tommy motioned me again and said, "Here goes, sport. Be ready."

I blinked to clear my eyes and peered into the sights of the gun. The ground movement looked like a group of tiny ants marching in unison. It seemed as if they were going to make a single mass movement towards the first CAV. I didn't think they had a clue as to what was in store for them.

Tommy shouted "FIRE!" and I squeezed the trigger. Every seventh round was a tracer, but the Vulcan fires so quickly all you can see is a single arch of red light from its barrel. The frantic movement on the beach instantly stopped.

Tommy said, "You got 'em all man! No movement on FLIR!"

I felt a momentary sickness wash over me. Yes, I knew what they had planned to do. I couldn't let them massacre our people on the ground. My only thoughts were I had just done to them what they had wanted to do to us. I had to forget it. Clear my mind for now.

The Spectre shuddered hard from a violent blast of flak, and the aircraft waffled wildly from side to side. The tail rudder had been hit but the damage was minimal, and the ship slowly regained its posture.

The VOX radio channel crackled, and I heard cowboy tell the control aircraft we were heading to a higher altitude to re fuel. We started to climb and the AC130 moaned loudly. I wondered how much more we could take once we returned to the beach.

The Raven was a late 60's model, and I had no Idea how much combat repair she had undergone during Vietnam. I knew the fuel cells were still weeping from the botched repair at Hulbert Field, and I worried she might split her tanks at any moment.

Silence filled the ship as we rose above the 3000-foot mark. The looks of the faces on board were varied at best. The cannon operators were sweeping shells up, laughing, and joking. Tommy surveyed his information and went over charts with his usual conviction. Tipper, the loadmaster seemed nervous as he looked at various hard mounting points and checked the landing gear. I did some light maintenance on the Vulcan as I crossed myself, thankful I was still alive.

VOX crackled again as the KC135 tanker operator urged Cowboy to hold the Raven as still as possible to avoid a collision. It was plain to see this was not as easy as it sounded. The tail section must have been damaged worse I thought. After some harrowing moments, the connector was uncoupled, and we pulled away.

The Raven banked right and started her descent. If anyone had told me that I would be here 3 days ago, I would have laughed aloud, but it was real, and we were in the thick of it all.

Tipper's voice shattered the silence. "Are you alright Ark?"

"Yea buddy," I said. "I'm just trying to rest a moment and re group before we head back into the storm."

"Ok brother" he said. It looks as if this ol' girl has seen better days."

"What do you mean, Tipper?" I said.

"I think the Raven is damaged worse than any of us realize." he said. "We're leaking hydraulic fluid from the main and secondary cylinders, and I noticed a lot of slack in the tail rudder control wires."

"Thing is Tipper, This bird has never let us down unless you count the fuel cell repairs at Hulbert." I said. "I'm sure if we were in any kind of real trouble, Cowboy would find a nice soft place to set her down."

Tipper smiled and shook his head.

"No place to soft land here, kid." He said.

He headed off towards the rear of the Raven, and left me alone with my thoughts. I hoped he wasn't right, but he always was on this sort of thing. There was no way we could set down on the runway at Salinas. The Cubans still had ground control, and it might be hours or even days before anyone could land there. With all the ordinance we had dropped in that area, it might be damaged so bad that it was impossible to land on the island.

We dropped altitude again and Cowboy circled to the right. I checked the Vulcan and loaded a fresh volley of ammo into the breach. Everyone seemed anxious to get back, and I was worried about the lack of ground support since we had left to refuel. With only two spectre's circling the island, the "Crow" was the only one there at the moment. Sure, one spectre could do a lot of damage, but two were guaranteed to keep the wolves at bay.

We dropped the last few hundred feet and started to circle the island again. Immediately the flak burst and anti aircraft fire lit up the sky all over again. The next few hours seemed to race past as we continued to try to keep the enemy off the backs of our troops on the ground. We took several hits, but managed to stayed air born.

Suddenly I heard ground control's radio message to Cowboy.

"Areca to Raven" the controller said. "The runway is clear for you to land."

I waited for the reply from Cowboy, but there was only silence from the cockpit.

"Areca to Raven" The controller called again. "Do you copy? The runway is clear."

Again, the mic was silent. A million things went through my mind at that moment.

Did Cowboy not hear the radio transmission? Could everyone be dead in the cockpit? What was going on?

I unbuckled my harness and tapped Tommy on the shoulder. "I'm going up topside." I said.

Tommy looked around and said, "Hope everyone's alive up there"

I climbed the crew ladder slowly not knowing what I might find. If they were all dead, we were in a world of trouble. We all had a few hours of flight simulation, in the event that we had to limp home without a pilot but I prayed none of us would have to find ourselves in that position.

I looked around the cabin bulkhead, not wanting to see what I might find. As I looked I was thankful to see them all alive. The co pilot and Cowboy were having trouble controlling the plane and the navigator was frantically pouring over his charts trying to find the right approach to set the Raven down.

Cowboy looked back and saw me standing there, scowling.

"Why the sour look, Ark?" he asked in his usual unconcerned way.

"What the hell is going on up here, Cowboy?" I shouted.

"I ain't gonna lie to you," he said. "We are in a world of shit right now. The outside starboard engine is about to give out, and we've got major prop damage on the rest of them."

I could see that they were doing all they could to try and steer the Raven, but it looked like a loosing battle. We had too much damage, and there was no way we could stay in the air much longer.

At that moment, the engine died, and the prop feathered to a halt. As I looked out the starboard window, I could see the engine smoking lightly. Cowboy hit the extinguisher switch and the smoke dissipated into the slipstream. The prop on the engine was bent and chewed up, as if a huge dog had used it like a chew toy.

"You had better get strapped in back there, Ark." Cowboy said. "We are gonna try and set this big bitch down at Salinas."

I made my way back down the crew ladder and Tommy was standing there waiting for me. I didn't want to tell him or the others, but there was no turning back now.

"What's going on up there?" he asked.

"I gotta tell everyone." I said. "Listen to your headset"

"Listen up guys!" I said as I keyed the mic. "Were done up here. We've lost an engine, and we got major prop and control damage. Everyone needs to secure there weapons and strap in. Looks like we are gonna have to brace for impact at Salinas."

Jack, the new kid that operated the 105mm howitzer, said, "Crash? Damn man you got any good news to tell us?"

"Sorry kid" I said, that's all I got for the moment.

"I didn't sign up for this shit!" he whined.

I secured the Vulcan and buckled myself into the jump seat. I could not believe this was happening. Yesterday I was at Hulbert field happy as hell, and now I was going to crash into some god forsaken Caribbean runway and die in a thousand pieces. I thought about all the things I would miss. I could not believe I wouldn't live to see my son being born. All of this was just too much. I knew Cowboy would do everything he could to set the Raven down in one piece, and freaking out now wouldn't do me any good.

I though about what Para Rescue had done for me. It had taken a small town kid with no real direction, and turned him into a good man. I had learned so much about myself in the last few years, and I was proud to have been a part of all this. If I died and never got to see my son, I hoped someone would survive to tell him that I had tried to make a difference in people's lives. Tell him his dad had died doing what he loved. I hoped he would know that I loved him more than anything and that I had given my life freely so that he could live in peace.

We started our descent towards Salinas's airport. The ground control operator told us that the runway was clear, but that wasn't the case. The sky lit up around us as we rolled into position for the landing. I knew they were doing all they could down there to help us get down in one piece.

"Hold on to your asses!" Tipper cried out. "I can't get the rear landing gear all the way down. This shit is gonna hurt!"

The Raven slammed down hard onto the tarmac. The impact jammed me upwards towards the ceiling, but the jump seat straps held fast. I felt as if I was being compressed into a small box. Cowboy threw the turbo props into full reverse, and the sound was deafening. [At that moment, the nose gear gave way, and the Raven pitched downward towards the ground, the nose gear tore into the asphalt and shook the ship violently.]

"This is it." I thought. "Once the sparks from the gear start hitting those leaky wings, we will burst into flames."

Thankfully, this never happened. The Raven had slowed a bit, but not enough to make a complete stop on the runway. We missed the last stop markers, and plowed into the sand breakers at the end of the runway. The Raven continued along, and the jungle was closing fast in the cabin windows. To this day, I don't know how he did it, but Cowboy pulled up just short of the tree line. The AC130 ground to a screaming halt, and he killed the ships power and switched to auxiliary. The Raven would never fly again.

Cowboy called out "Report in! Is everyone alright back there?"

Everyone had survived the crash, maybe a little banged up, but OK. The emergency lights and warning signals made the inside of the Raven look like a Christmas tree. Cowboy killed all the alarms, and we all got ready to exit the plane.

"There's a lot of gunplay going on out there." Tipper said. "Everyone get there flak jackets on and be ready to run for shelter. Get your game plan ready before I lower the rear hatch!"

Small arms fire was hitting the side of the Raven. We all huddled into the tail section.

Bill, the other howitzer operator was an old veteran to this sort of thing. He looked at me and said, "You want to make it out of here alive?"

"Is that a trick question?" I said

Don't be a smart ass boy!" he said. When the hatch opens, I'm gonna flank right with grazing fire, and Tippers gonna flank left. All of you need to stay low and head straight out the back of the plane. Intelligence told us there is a bunker that we control about sixteen to twenty yards right behind us."

Jack said, "Hey old man, I can fend for myself. I'm gonna run to the left and take cover behind those sheds we saw coming in."

You'll never make it there, kid." Bill said. "You'll get shot before you get ten feet."

"I'll take my chances." Jack said.

"Suit yourself!" Bill said.

"Ark you run as fast as you can towards that bunker," Bill said. "If you do what I tell you, then you'll make it there. We can't loose our only medic."

"You don't have to tell me twice!" I Said. "I got you the first time."

Tipper hit the release mechanism on the tail bulkhead, and the door hydraulics started to whine. This is it, I thought.

All the training and hard work had come down to this moment. I had never been so scared, yet so alive in my life. There was no time left to contemplate any of this. It was time to go. I said a silent prayer as light streamed into the cabin. The bi fold doors opened even wider.

"God, please let me make it home alive."

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When I read this piece of news I was stunned by the intolerant stance taken by Beijing. Apparently "security reasons" is the cause of this ban. To me this is absolutely unacceptable as it borders on the ridiculous and shows how extreme the officially God forsaken country is. Athletes are also prohibited from bearing any kind of religious symbol at Olympic facilities.


Well if Bibles are banned, are Korans banned too? Well I would think Muslim athletes will surely be denied their sacred book too. As far as I know devout Muslims will not accept such nonsense. This seems like an insult on Islam itself. To take it further are Muslim headscarves banned to? They certainly are a religious symbols and they will be banned unless Chinese are hypocrites.

Furthermore, what will happen to Jews and their skullcaps? How about the Sikhs and their turbans? Well it can go on forever but the whole message Beijing is giving that they are bigoted Mao Tse Tung butt kissers money worshipers. Good job Hu Jintao your men have insulted the whole wide world.

Of course this can only culminate in one thing - the mass boycott of the Beijing Olympics. To me this would surely make my day as I have already decided that the Chinese government has absolutely no ethics and is one hundred percent morally bankrupt. All because of oil and money China ganged up with Russia to support the rape of Darfur. Genocide takes place there because they block all international efforts to stop the Sudanese. Remember the Burmese who died in their struggle for freedom! China and the Asean especially despicable Malaysia, Thailand and Singapore gave the finger to the democracy movement.

May you burn evil China!

~multum in parvo~

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From the BBC News website:

Attack on giant Pakistan Buddha

Suspected pro-Taleban militants have tried to blow up an ancient carving of Buddha in north-west Pakistan. The statue, thought to date from the second century BC, sustained only minimal damage in the attack near Manglore in remote Swat district. The area has seen a rise in attacks on "un-Islamic" targets in recent months. This is the first such attack in Pakistan and is reminiscent of the Taleban's 2001 destruction of the giant Buddhas at Bamiyan in Afghanistan.

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The last time this happened was at Bamiyan, Afghanistan [ read article ], where the world's largest Buddhist statues were destroyed by the then-ruling Taliban regime for being "un-Islamic". Although the Taliban are now no longer in power, and on the run from US-NATO forces pursuing them in the mountainous regions of Afghanistan bordering Pakistan, already new extremists have stepped forward in Pakistan to continue their heinous crimes.

..the Bamiyan Buddhas survived for sixteen centuries in the remote fastness of the Afghan Hindu Kush. Neither the ravages of time, nor the conquering armies of Islam--not even the scourge of Genghis Khan--had laid them low.. - Andrew Forbes, CPAmedia.com

Supposedly following the destruction of the Bamiyan Buddhas, an international organization was established to protect and conserve religious sites worldwide [ read article ]. Granted, their jurisdiction probably accounts for nothing in the tribal-controlled border regions of Pakistan. Still, this startling lack of action on their part (aside from the expected cries of outrage and condemnation) is worrisome, as it demonstrates the terrorists' capability to continue their activities unimpeded, despite the world's opposition and horror.

It is obvious enough that the terrorists possess an agenda against all those who are not Muslims. Even better, considering events in Iraq (and the Middle East in general), they're more than willing to wage war against Muslims as well who do not see their side of the coin. Isn't it any wonder Islamophobia is at its height, and the United States is taking an increasingly hardline stance against nations suspected of harboring Muslim terrorists?

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Yesterday the British Prime Minister, Gordon Brown showed that he deserves no respect at all. The world owes a debt to the United States for its leadership in the fight against international terrorism, Gordon Brown has said. What an obscene statement! The US under the reckless chickenhawk Bush administration has only led the world headlong into an increase in terrorism. Nobody owes a debt to a nation that has imperiled us all.

According to many sources the Iraq war has caused a sevenfold increase in terrorism. Yes, a sevenfold increase! To make matters worse they were no terrorist Iraq in the first place before the war. Using the false pretenses of supposed weapons of mass destruction under the preemptive strike doctrine brought about to destroy terrorist they (America and gang) invaded Iraq. The deposed and executed Saddam Hussien but left utter chaos behind. Civil wars are raging in Iraq. Terrorists now call Iraq the University of Terrorism (they attended terrorism school in Afghanistan). Baghdad is now the murder capital in the world. Even the humanitarian situation is worse than before the war. I call it total mission failure!

One war and America (Bush Administration) has lost its right to lead the world against terrorism (until they redeem themselves). To make matters even more dire the terrorist are back in Afghanistan ready to bounce back. These terrorist are now attacking the NATO forces there. They even control some parts of Afghanistan. You can blame opium or anything else but if America sent only troops to Afghanistan no such nonsense would have occurred.

To hell with Bush for he imperiled us all by emboldening terrorists! The world owes nothing to America but they owe us a blood debt that can never be paid.

P.S: This post is another reason why I hate politicians so much.

~multum in parvo~

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Read this, people! I watched a documentary on the National Geographic Channel on the Iraq War and what sort of technologies were used during the war in such a way that they could help reduce the number of casualties of innocent civilians.

Apparently, the use of missiles which are able to pinpoint specific coordinates are able to take down only specific buildings, and in the case of Iraq War, it was the government buildings that they were targeting at. These missiles are guided by GPS and therefore possess great precision or accuracy in hitting the target.

So, advancement in technology has changed the style of modern warfare, huh? Does that mean war will only be between leaders of conflicting countries?

I still say NO! No matter how developed war technology is, to me war is never justified. In fact, there is no need for war in the first place. No matter how advanced the technology is, innocent lives are still killed. People are still living in horror. They lose everything in a glimpse. Their economy is shattered. Even if they are still alive, their ability to sustain themselves would be dead.

There is never been a need to wage war against any nation. Only bloodthirsty, greedy and merciless leaders would wage war against other nations. We already had Hitler in 1941. Do we want a Third World War?

Sadly, our leaders of the world sometimes could not be more selfish and inconsiderate. While things can be resolved diplomatically, some resort to war. And while there are people out there fighting for world peace, there are also people who "konon-kononnya" are fighting for world peace, too, but in the end cause war among themselves. So much for the fight for world peace.

What if all nations were to strip off their weaponry, and I mean, ALL OF THEIR WEAPONRY? No nuclear bombs, no missiles, no machine guns, nothing! Are we going to fight with sticks and stones then?

Albert Einstein once said, "I don't know with what weapons will World War 3 be fought with, but World War 4 will be fought with sticks and stones."

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“In times like these, father,” the officer whispered as the pastor’s eyes bulged with rage, “I wonder where your Almighty God is.”

Since Comrade is quite a fan of this series of short stories I wrote, I'm just announcing it here for him - and anyone else who's interested - that the third sequel is up! *grins*

By the by, the pull-quote highlights a section from They Came: Part III.

What is the series all about? Well, here's the introduction:

What would a nation be without law and order? Lost, confused, anarchic - the words differ, but the general consensus is the same. There would be no escape for anyone from the carnage and chaos that would inevitably come to grip the country in which they live.

In this mini-series of inter-connected episodes, a tale of courage, honour, and strength is upheld. People fighting for the beliefs and things they hold dear; values that matter even more in the face of mounting adversity, when everything threatens to tear your lives apart.

Read the story of the people who were affected the most - on the day They Came.

For the first two parts:

• They Came: Part I
• They Came: Part II

Do comment on any of the three! I want to hear what you have to say! I'll work on the fourth one next time round when I've the time, alright?

Thanks, all!

~verus rara avis~

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Listen to the UN watch representative's condemnation.

Syria, Iran, Sudan, Russia and China condemned Israel because it's USA's proxy. These criminal governments maybe except Syria orchestrate far worse crimes than Israel. Why don't I see these countries condemned at the UN Human rights commission? The OIC is another hypocritic organisation. Why don't they condemn the Arab racists, murderers and rapists of Sudan? Why no condemnation of Muslim on Muslim killing in Iraq? Why no censure against the pseudo civil war in Gaza? Hypocrites!!

~multum in parvo~

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Watch the video to find out how flawed the Iraq war really is. Listen carefully to Mr Benn as well, he's one awesome orator.

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Look down! Look down!
Don't look 'em in the eye.
Look down! Look down!
You're here until you die.

The sun is strong,
It's hot as hell below!
Look down! Look down!
There's twenty years to go.

I'll die, O Lord,
Sweet Jesus hear my prayer.
Look down! Look down!
Sweet Jesus doesn't care.

I know she'll wait.
I know that she'll be true.
Look down! Look down!
They've all forgotten you.

When I get free,
You won't see me, 'ere for dust!

Look down! Look down!
Don't look 'em in the eye.
How long, O Lord,
Before you let me die?

Look down! Look down!
You'll always be a slave.
Look down! Look down!
You're standing in your grave.

---adapted from Les Misérables

To those who have watched Les Misérables, you should know what the above lyrics of the Entre'Act reflect. To those who do not know, pray read more.

Its main theme is about the poverty and war that struck France in the early 1800s. Poverty and war have caused much social unrest, and law at that time was unmerciful. This is what was the writer of the novel Les Misérables, who is Victor Hugo, tried to portray. In those days of war, people who are poor could become rich through stealing and doing other sorts of things. According to the novel (and the drama), college students have to defend their own land from being conquered. They were outnumbered and all but one died in the war.

Although the story discusses about poverty and war, I'd like to draw your attention on the matter of war. Human beings have not ceased to gain glory through conquering and colonising other people's lands. This was since the first civilisations appeared on earth. And till now, war is still going on.

As we ponder back into the days of modern history, we find ourselves looking back into the First and Second World War, the Vietnam War, the Iraq War and many more, we see that war brings nothing more than just misery, loss, condemnation, sufferings and so on. What is it that you see is good from war?

Who decides to wage war on other nations? Surely it is the leader of a country who does so, against the leader of another. But they forgot that war affects not only the leaders but the innocent ones as well. Sometimes a leader wages war against another leader for the wrong that the latter has done, but does that make the people in the wrong, too? Because of the decision that the former makes, the latter's people have to suffer the consequences, too. Is this what we would constitute as justice?

The worst of all is this: after the war, the people who are afflicted by it will still continue to suffer. While the victor continues to wash their hands in butter, the defeated ones have to continue grafting for as long as they are able (yes, I'm using quite a lot of words from Les Misérables). And it isn't just for a few weeks or a few months, it's for years!

We have seen for ourselves the hard times the Iraqis are going through now since the Iraq War. Although many lives have now improved and restored to normality, chaos still happens and people are still living in fear.

We know perfectly well that war brings misery and suffering to the people. In history, people have often been tricked by other nations about how they can help free the nation from other conquerors, how they can help develop their nation if the people co-operate with them. However, in the end, they still are conquered, albeit by another nation, and is still neglected. All I am trying to say is this: (Most) war-mongers make empty promises.

Don't agree with me? Well, have your say here then! Feel free to drop comments.

P/S: Sorry that I can't write a more extensive entry about this matter. I'm currently down with sore throat and cough (I've lost my voice!). And I'm sorry that I haven't been able to post here often.

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It seems that Bush has been whining a lot on why the Iraqis don't feel gratitude towards him for toppling Saddam. Who wants to feel gratitude when utter chaos has ensued from the American occupation in Iraq. So, is Bush stupid or there's something more sinister below the surface?

Bush actually has a superiority complex. Disturbingly, Bush has an incessant concern with the proper level of fealty. The word that he repeatedly uses when discussing what he wants from nations he thinks he's helping—"gratitude"—implies a supplicant's relationship to his lord. Power has evidently overpowered him.

As Stanley Renshon, a political psychologist at the City University of New York Graduate Center (and generally a Bush supporter), puts it, "Gratitude is something you give to somebody who's superior. It's very different from, say, appreciation, which is something that equals give each other."

Bush thinks American generosity gets to little credit. He refuses acknowledge, however, that governments give aid or go to war for their own interests, not just for the interests of others, and therefore don't generally require gratitude notes. Nor does he seem to realise, whatever his motives, that nobody likes whiner-donors who demand bowing and scraping are often resented, if not despised. Like almost all American politicians Bush is one self centered hypocrite. America brought anarchy, suffering and death to Iraq for bloody oil.

I wish Bush gets struck by lightning as that man doesn't deserve to exist. He hasn't brought anything good in this world. He should quickly join Saddam, Hitler, Stalin, Mao etc. wherever they are.

~multum in parvo~


(Images courtesy of Paper Napkin)

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Courtesy of StampAndShout.com:











From The Star Online "Attacks kill 112 Shi'ite Pilgrims in Iraq" and Iraq Body Count (as of 1200 hours; 7th March, 2007):

...for our children's sake, say NO to war!

~verus rara avis~

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The recent denialof evidence that women were forced to become sex slaves by the Japanese army during World War II by the Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe is truly sickening. His statements proves the ultra-nationalistic arrogance of the majority of Japanese. Shinzo is a big disgrace as are most Japanese.

Now let us go into the issue of comfort women itself. Who were the comfort women? They are simply the sex slaves who served in the Imperial Japanese army during their wars (mostly World War II). The majority of the women were from Korea and China. Others came from the Philippines, Taiwan, Thailand, Vietnam, Singapore, Dutch East Indies, and other Japanese-occupied countries and regions. I hate all wretched Japanese who deny their war crimes. Those who deny those horrendous crime must suffer painful death and burn in the fires of hell for eternity with all those bastard soldiers, generals, minister and the cursed dead bloody emperor.
At the beginning of the Imperial Japanese wars prostitutes were sought to service Japanese soldiers in order to increase the morale and ultimately the military effectiveness of Japanese soldiers. These prostitutes were found through middlemen who put advertisements all over the Japanese empire. However, these sources of sex workers started to dry up after some time. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs also resisted further issuance of travel visas for Japanese prostitutes, feeling it tarnished the image of the Japanese Empire.

The military then started acquiring common women especially from Korea and occupied China through kidnapping, trickery and fraud. These girls were to endure serial rapes and gang-rapes by up to 40 men a day while the Japanese prostitutes managed them. As the war progressed the situation worsened as locals leaders (especially in China) were forced to acquire sex slaves for the Japanese. Imagine sending your neighbourhood girls to a hell of rape. Japanese soldiers also carried out the "Three Alls Policy", which included indiscriminately kidnapping and raping local civilians as another source of their sex slaves. I call upon the PLA to inflict this acts upon you. You bloody yellow monkeys will be crushed by we yellow dragons. Yellow hairless gorilla gang-rapist really deserved to be bombed by the Marines.
Comfort women lived in a world of sexual hell. Japanese soldiers routinely beat and tortured these girls. Being raped by countless men a day many girls sustained genital injuries.You bloody damn sub-human bastards even deny the Nanjing Massacre. See what happens if the PLA perpetrate the Rape of Tokyo in the Third Sino-Japanese War. Death to the yellow devils from Japan. May you be damned for eternity.

Yasuji Kaneko's words.

"They cried out, but it didn't matter to us whether the women lived or died," Kaneko said in an interview at his Tokyo home. "We were the Emperor's soldiers. Whether in military brothels or in the villages, we raped without reluctance."

Women were divided into three or four categories, depending on their length of service. The "freshest" women were the least likely to suffer from STDs and were placed in the highest category. Virgins were usually given to officers to have their hymen penetrated violently. As time went on, the comfort women were downgraded as the likelihood of their acquiring STDs became more certain. Any girl suspected of being pregnant underwent extremely crude abortions. more often than not killing the women through over-bleeding during surgical removals. Girls deemed too used or diseased they were abandoned, disposed as they were treated like sex objects (toys) to be thrown away when spoilt. During their retreat from the American forces the Japanese sometimes tried to hide their comfort women. They would stash these women in secret caves and blast the entrance, causing landslides that sealed the cave. Many women reported having their uterus's rot from the diseases acquired from being raped by thousands of men over several years, at times requiring surgical removal. A handful of ex-comfort women survive till this day.

Despite that the world knows the truth of these horrendous war crimes most Japanese refuse to acknowledge them out of outright contempt toward the world. Germans acknowledge the evils of the Third Reich while Japanese deny the war crimes of Imperial Japan. How wicked can the Japanese be? As of now an ongoing campaign to obtain an official apology from Japanese takes place.

Here is an excerpt story of a story about former comfort woman, Par Kumjoo found here.

Whether it was morning or night, once one soldier left, the next soldier came. Twenty men would come in one day...
-- We would try to talk each other out of committing suicide, but even with that, women still did. There were women who stole opium and took it. If they took a lot of it, they would vomit blood and die. There were people who died after gulping medicine whose name they didn't even know. There were also people who hanged themselves with their clothing when inside the toilet. Because there were people who tried to kill themselves even if they only had some string, we tried to hide string from each other...
-- Then, about six months after I was made a "military comfort woman," I told a colonel in the army, "Do you think we are your maids and your prostitutes? How can you be a human being after making us do such things? We came because we were told we were going to a factory, and we didn't come knowing we would be prostituted." I spat in his face.
-- From there, that soldier said, "It is the command of the army. The country's order is the Emperor's order. If you have something to say, you can say it to the Emperor." Then he beat me. I was in a coma for three days. Even when I regained consciousness, I couldn't move. Even now I feel pain from that time, and scars remain.

That's all for now. There are easter eggs written in wretched language somewhere in this post.

~multum in parvo~

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16th July 1945

If you could change the world…would you want to?

Today is July 16th, 1945. On the surface, things appear well at the Alamos for a change. We had champagne today at the barracks, amidst all the mud and scientists and a very happy president in a very celebratory mood. The army men are overjoyed; they really think we'll have the Germans and the Japs by their hairy balls with this one. I want to laugh sardonically right in their fancy bushy moustaches (it's obvious the war will soon be won anyway) but working here has long since robbed me of my voice and rebellion.

The luminaries have mixed reactions about today. Fermi is like a proud father; he hasn't stopped grinning since. It's beginning to sicken me, and I fear I will not be able to stand his beaming pride much longer before I crumple into a breakdown of my own. Feynman, that free spirit and practical joker is in a much more somber mood than his usual persona suggests. I don't believe we'll hear much more of Injun Joe drumming away into the night. I suppose a good night's sleep is on the cards.

Myself … what has become of this shell?

Still tall, still thin, still smoking two packs a day (with the exception of today; I fear I may unconsciously promote myself to the mythical realm of six-pack chain smokers). The days leading up to this forsaken date in history have been particularly unkind to my appetite. I have never experienced such depression and such desire to retreat into reclusion since the time in Paris when I had leapt up and attempted to throttle my dear friend Francis Ferguson by the neck. God, that incident still embarrasses me even now. To think that it had all begun with me merely narrating the frustrations I had at the time with experimental physics!

I used to think I needed physics more than I needed friends. But what good is physics if it removes from existence all of mankind, let alone any friends I might have?

Katherine has also been losing weight. This whole mess has clearly affected her too. She hates to see me like this, and I hate to see her like this. The days of our courtship in Berkeley seem so distant now, I am not even sure if it is a memory or only a dream. God knows I need those memories. Memories are the platform for our reason, and should we lose them, we lose our sanity. I need all the sanity I can get in these dark times.

I cannot quite remember what exactly it was that I felt when we drove out to the vast desolate plains of Alamogordo in the early hours of the morning. Ah, yes. I remember now. I am ashamed to have felt great confidence and pride, amour propre bursting out of my chest as I looked ahead at the site of our first major test. The ranch shack housing the gadget, the fruit of our labor, awaited us. The rain was pouring down in buckets and lightning struck like warning signals from the gods. We held our breath each time the electricity split the sky, for an accidental detonation would be disaster.

I had named the test site Trinity. In retrospect, it was blasphemous of me to suggest a place of destruction to be named as such. Why I chose the name is not clear, but I know what thoughts were in my mind. There is a poem of John Donne, written just before his death. From it a quotation:

"As West and East
In all flat Maps—and I am one—are on,
So death doth touch the Resurrection."

That still does not make a Trinity, but in another, Donne opens,

"Batter my heart, three person'd God;—."

Beyond this, I have no clue whatever as to why I named it so.

The skies finally cleared at about 5 a.m. We were shepherded to a base camp ten miles away. Feynman, that eternal joker, refused to wear the dark glasses that would protect his eyes from the flash, testament to both his testicular fortitude and general lack of good sense.

The passing of twenty minutes seemed like an eternity, a lifetime. I laugh now to think whose lifetime it was. Perhaps it was mine; that would explain my wasting away. The flash reached us first, illuminating our surroundings brighter than any sun can, swathing us with colors of purple, to green, and eventually to white before the roar of the shock wave hit us like a million-gun salute forty seconds later. The presence of the 12km-tall mushroom cloud was so immense, so loud, so bright, so hot – and it was so very hot, like being in an oven in that bunker ten miles away- that I felt like I was standing at the feet and mercy of a malevolent and omnipresent god.

If the radiance of a thousand suns

were to burst into the sky,

that would be like

the splendor of the Mighty One—

I am become Death, the shatterer of Worlds.

I am become death. I led this team, a team composed of the most brilliant physicists around that I had handpicked myself, into creating the most devastating weapon ever invented in the history of mankind, and in two weeks the world will witness the full extent of its powers. We will watch and shake and tremble at what we will do to this earth and at how we will change it.

At how I will change it.

The name on my badge says "J. R. Oppenheimer", but it will not mean a thing to those Japs. I am keeping this journal as proof that I once was famous, I once graduated Summa Cum Laude from Harvard in just three years, I once was the bright founder of modern theoretical physics; and I am keeping this journal as proof that as of today, July 16th 1945, I wish I never were any of the above.

They will know me as the man who made the A-bomb.

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