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June 10, 2008

From Gridiron To Battlefield?

[Kat]

From Gridiron to Battlefield?

Army doctors home from Iraq and Afghanistan were watching NFL players pound it out, and thought, "that's what our soldiers need, helmets like ... that."

Because, believe it or not, the effects on the brain of on-field collisions can be a lot like an IED explosion, CBS News correspondent Kimberly Dozier reports.[snip]

"Let's just look and see if we take a football helmet that's designed to prevent concussion and gerry-rig that into an Army combat helmet, and then test it in a standard fashion that helmets are tested to see if we couldn't decrease the incidents of concussion," said Dr. John Holcomb of the Brooke Army Medical Center.

Did it ever. It was 50 percent better.

Reporting As Ordered, Sir! �

by Kat on Jun 10, 2008 | TrackBack (0)

June 11, 2007

Meanwhile, the seal is still roaming the Delaware...

...although you were probably unaware of it, since my ISP kept spitting me offline the last time I was here

[click/save]

before I was quick enough to

[click/save]

preserve the news.

Well, Kate the LudditeWife finally dozed off and stopped hollering "Get off that %$#@! computer and get a job! I don't care *where* you go -- just find a job!" for reasons which I will reveal after keeping both of you reading this on tenterhooks for the nonce.

Daytime (starting around 3:45am, when Gaby, the Scruple-In-Training, awakens and starts squawking for company) has been the usual round of roofing lake houses, replacing garage windows, knocking down wooden greenhouses and erecting metal ones, repairing leaks in koi ponds (never realized there were so *many* of them in the area), creating serene vistas out of knotweed / grapevine / poison ivy-filled back yards and hitting Job Fairs. Nighttime has been the usual round of filling out apps on company Job Boards and checking my spam traps search bots, who insist that being a tractor mechanic in Fargo is right up my alley. In March, I figured I'd better brush up on my 'lectrical skills (just in case) and rewired my old flight helmet...

*sigh*

I'm not closing in on King William of Redmond in the earnings department, but at least I'll never need to buy another pen (Job Fair participants in Crystal City pass out logo'd pens and mini-mag flashlights -- those in New Brunswick give you gallon-sized plastic tote bags. Just in case you were curious).

Long time back, AFSis passed me the cheery message that jobs for the walking dead guys of my -- ummmmm -- experience level were few and far between. "Few and far" about describes it. I only know of three other guys who were in my line of work (Cobra 'Structor Pilot / Safety Geek) who didn't bolt for Apaches or Black Hawks when the Green Machine dumped the AH-1F and they're flying desks for OSACOM, the Army's airline.

Which brings me to the reason KtLW is now sound asleep instead if hovering over my shoulder offering job-search tips such as, "That application is incomplete. You need to fill in *all* the blank spaces, even the ones marked 'Females Only' -- trust me, I *know* what they look for..." and "Be sure to tell them that your flashbacks aren't anywhere near as violent as they used to be."

Last Thursday, I got a phone call.

"Hello, I'm [program manager's name and defense contractor's ID withheld just to make John nuts] and I understand you were a Cobra Instructor Pilot? And you have NVG gunnery experience? And you have a current passport?"

"Yes to all three."

"Would flying Cobras in [someplace not in the western hemisphere] sound like something that you'd be interested in?"

Oh, man -- throw me right into that briar patch, Bre'r Fox!

Inbound e-mails with attachments arrived, followed rapidly by outbound e-mails with attachments. Long story short, as long as I don't die before I take a Flight Physical, I'll be indoctrinated, innoculated and enroute to being a Castle Correspondent before the end of June. The gig runs until September, with the chance that the contract will be extended.

Somehow, I just *knew* there was a reason I rewired the ol' SPH-4...

Reporting As Ordered, Sir! �

by CW4BillT on Jun 11, 2007

March 29, 2006

Finally! Found some Castle-Stuff!

In a brief foray into the National Museum of Korea, I found some Armorer-style Stuff.

Old swords.

Swords from Korean National Museum

Old brain bucket.

Helmet from Korean National Museum

And a Korean Warrior who apparently had had enough of a day full of schoolkids!

I will score much, much more at the War Memorial of Korea this weekend.

by John on Mar 29, 2006

November 7, 2004

Tidbits from the National Infantry Museum

Which, being full of guns, with grounds full of artillery and tanks, is one of the Armorers favorite places to visit. The Armorer doesn't want to move here, but he does like visiting!

In the rotating exhibit section, to the right of the entrance, there are some OIF and OEF exhibits. Saddam's hunting rifle and ceremonial sword are in great company. The collection of the Infantry museum holds other relics of tyranny, such as Himmler's hunting guns and Goering's marshall's baton.

American infantry have thrown down numerous tyrants in their day. Assisting and assisted by their brother Anglosphere infantry, I would hasten to add. And, now and again, French infantry, when their government allows it. Ably assisting in this effort, and acknowledged by the museum, are their fellow-travelers, the Artillery and Armor.

The museum contains furniture the Armorer would like to have. Especially this piece for the living room. She Who Will Be Obeyed will allow it becaue it has a lot of nice brass in it.

And boy is the museum full of interesting little tidbits. Two Davy Crocketts. Several items the Armorer would like to add to the Funny Hat collection.

Developmental. rifles. all. over.

Mortars. Funny cars. And guns, guns, guns. What's not to like?

There's even a train!

If you are ever in Columbus, go visit Ft. Benning. See the Airborne School - and above all, visit the National Infantry Museum!

Reporting As Ordered, Sir! �

by John on Nov 07, 2004

May 4, 2004

When things work as they should.

In a post below, regarding the Canadian flyer now being credited with taking Rommel out of the Battle of Normandy at a crucial moment, one of the commenters asked, "What the hell happened?" - meaning to the Canadians and their warriors.

A serving Canadian allowed as to how they were still around, and still serving, just not as obvious. True.

Here's some proof. In the form of a kevlar noodle-wrapper damaged in a suicide bombing in Kabul on 27 January, 2004. The Canadian noodle wrapped in this helmet is happy that it worked as intended.

If you have high-speed access, or don't mind waiting, click the pic for a higher-res version of the picture.


Helmet w-splintethumb.jpg

by John on May 04, 2004

February 3, 2004

Small Mortars, Part 1. The Japanese "Knee" Mortar.

Okay, lets face it. If you are an infantryman, life sucks. It sucks because your own guys make fun of you (as long as there is room to run). When they get sloppy they accidentally kill and maim you. The pay ain’t that great, and living under canvas or in muddy holes just isn’t all that much fun. (These are many of the reasons I was an artilleryman, lending dignity to what was otherwise a vulgar brawl). Add to that the crappy food, full of sand, smothered in flies (mmmmm, protein!), and living in filth with nasty, inadequate clothing (while those b*st*rd quartermaster guys lived in requisitioned houses and replaced all their clothes all the time, not to mention running the bath and laundry, and always treated you like you were stealing when you needed to replace something), and amusing yourself by seeing how many rats you could kill with your bayonet while waiting for the bombardment to end, or for those flying a**holes to drop their bombs and bugger out for 3 hots and cot with nightcaps at the club.

Then. THEN there’s that other poor dumb b*st*rd who is just as miserable as you are and he’s trying to kill you in the bargain. On purpose, not just by accident, like your own artillery, tanks, and aircraft are doing. (But ya wanna know the dirty little secret? Except when it's for real, and sometimes even then, good chunks of it is fun. As long as there's no serious blood, on either side).

Anyway, people who try to kill you suck. And ones who are trying to do it on purpose, well, they REALLY suck. And not in that nice “lady of the evening” way, either. These people just really, really suck.

So, first they tried to kill you by stabbing you, hacking you, bashing you.


Like with this Georgian infantry officer’s sword, Saxon battle axe, or Swedish war hammer, all standing in for the thousands of years that most people who sucked were trying to do you in at close range. What’s a feller to do? Sharp pointy things, sharp-edged things, and blunt objects HURT.

Flash Traffic (extended entry) Follows �

by John on Feb 03, 2004
� INDC Journal: "Documenting the Moonbat Swarm" links with: Another Warning and Something for the Gun Nuts