There is a good essay at World Affairs Journal   concerning the poisonous state of military and civilian affairs today. 

Quote:

In the civil-military arena, the consequences of even a slowly unraveling debacle in Iraq could be quite ugly. Already, politicians and generals have been pointing fingers at one another; the Democrats and some officers excoriating the administration for incompetence, while the administration and a parade of generals fire back at the press and anti-war Democrats. The truly embittered, like retired Army Lieutenant General Ricardo Sanchez, who commanded in Iraq in 2003­­–04, blame everyone and everything: Bush and his underlings, the civilian bureaucracy, Congress, partisanship, the press, allies, even the American people. Last November, Sanchez went so far as to deliver the Democrats’ weekly radio address—and, with it, more bile and invective. Thomas Ricks, chief military correspondent of the Washington Post, detects a “stab in the back narrative . . . now emerging in the U.S. military in Iraq. . . . [T]he U.S. military did everything it was supposed to do in Iraq, the rest of the U.S. government didn’t show up, the Congress betrayed us, the media undercut us, and the American public lacked the stomach, the nerve, and the will to see it through.”  Ricks thinks this “account is wrong in every respect; nonetheless, I am seeing more and more adherents of it in the military.”

Rumsfeld started this ball rolling with his ham fisted and truculent management style, earning him the nickname "Screwdriver" for his McNamara tendency to micromanage at long distance.  His shabby treatment of USMC General Zinni and Army General Shinseki has not been forgotten.  In fact, essays have appeared in Army journals charging the top brass with cowardice for not pushing back against Rumsfeld when it became bitterly obvious he was dead wrong in many areas.
Fred Kagan at The Weekly Standard   has been spreading the fundamentally dishonest idea that victory is just around the elusive corner.  Therefore, the Dems will be, of course, stabbing the military in the back by, doing whatever it is they will do.   From acclaimed  Middle East defense blogger Abu Muqawama :

Abu Muqawama read this passage this past week and realized exactly why so much of what the Kagans write about Iraq makes him angry. Divorced from the complicated realities on the ground, the Kagans' narrative allows readers of the Weekly Standard to think that Iraq is a black-and-white world in which Our Brave Boys are winning the fight. Although the left says Iraq is a disaster, they are all lying -- it's actually going 100% well. Why is this dangerous? Because when the next president -- Obama or McCain -- comes to office and is suddenly confronted with the messy reality of Iraq, he might have to make some tough decisions. And if he decides to start cutting our loses and moving our finite troops to Afghanistan and back to the U.S. for re-training, he -- especially if it's Obama -- is going to get mercilessly crucified by the right for abandoning the glorious success that was our involvement in Iraq. The "stabbed in the back" narrative will take hold, and it proponents will seize the dishonest picture of Iraq painted by the Kagans as evidence that we were winning in Iraq before the cowardly liberals took charge.

The left, meanwhile, is reading their own version of events in newspapers like the Guardian and the Independent. The left and center-left will also have the testimony of folks like Gen. William Odom and Nir Rosen to rely on. (Read excerpts via Abu Aardvark.) Abu Muqawama disagrees with Nir about a lot but respects his friend for spending years on the ground in Iraq, speaking (Arabic!) with normal Iraqis of all political and sectarian stripes. Sometimes Abu Muqawama thinks Nir loses the forest for the trees, but his description of the reality on the ground in Iraq is closer to the truth than anything Fred Kagan is going to write from his office at AEI.

Hard decisions will have to be made, and the current contemptible practice of using military officers as political accessories only adds the sense of frustration that the military feels right now.  I was stunned just this week to see General Petraeus on a short list of VP candidates for Senator McCain.   I have argued before that we need a dose of hard, clear eyed realism in our war in Iraq, and I am not seeing any signs that we are actually getting it.  We are getting political grandstanding and sound bite "gotcha!" moments where anything short of saying we are at the threshold of *utterly undefinable* victory is denounced as sedition.

I see no chance whatsoever that Iraq will become a real, functioning democracy , at least as has been described to us.  The fighting in Basra was a disaster for the Iraqi Army.  Units mutinied or defected, and Basra remains beyond the reach of the Maliki Government.
See the April 4 entries by Juan Cole...
Without realism...and realistic goals in play...we are left with simplistic, dishonest rhetoric, an angry and embittered military, and a public that is cynical and distrustful of its' leadership.

This is intolerable.

              

It's been awhile since I have have checked in, and much has happened.  My apologies to all for the delay, but I have been working in Indianapolis at the airport.  I expect that the job may last for at least little longer, so posting may be sporadic.

In the late evenings after I get into my hotel room, I find there is little to do but watch the limited cable fare that is offered.  "Red Eye", on Fox News, has become a standard.  However, the local PBS station, WFYI, has been airing Ken Burns' "The War" on late night viewing.  As most of you know, "The War" is a documentary detaining the effect of World War II on four very ordinary mid size United States cities and towns.  As in his previous and outstanding "The Civil War", Burns makes extensive use of letters and eyewitness testimonies, but here the testimony is largely live and on camera.  Much of the footage is new (to U.S. audiences) and much is also in color.

The color footage really caught my eye one evening last week as  I watched the final episode taking the narrative up to VE and VJ day.  The footage was of B-29 bombers over Japan.  Like many in the aviation industry, I have been a rabid admirer of the B-29 (and many other warbirds as well...).  The B-29 is a miracle of  1940's technology, and the footage showed a flight of the giant aircraft gracefully navigating a beautiful cobalt sky.

There  was something else about that final episode.  One of the veterans that had been featured throughout the series was a P-51 fighter pilot who had served in the European theatre.  He had told of one day when he strafed a column of German trucks and pulled in close enough to really see what the .50 calibre  bullets he fired were really doing to the men.  He had described seeing the horrorfying  damage that he had done, and the nightmares and occasional paralysis he has suffered ever since.  He has a gentle and almost haunted look about him, as one reviwer noted.  Nonetheless, on this night, he admitted to still being pulled into "the whirlpool", as he called it.  Despite the anguish, terror and loathing of combat that he remembers, it still draws him back with the promise of the sheer intensity of the experience.

I understood, or least on some level.  One of the most memorable, and indeed most intense experiences of my time in the Army was when I fired a .50 calibre machine gun.  We called it an M2, or a "Ma Deuce".  The muzzle blast was absolutely unbelievable when you were in the assistant gunner position.  It would half knock your helmet off and beat you senseless.  When I actually got to shoot, I can remember the sun on my arms and the heat on my BDU pants as I gripped the spade handles.  The sweat and dirt on my hands had formed to make a muddy paste the collected in the folds of my hands, and I could feel the slickness as I toggled the butterfly trigger and the gun began to roar.  There is nothing like it for really feeling alive.

All of this got me wondering about the strange fascination that I and so many other people have with the machines and minutiae of death.  A scholar that I have admired for some time blogs as "Rob" over at "Lawyers, Guns and Money".  He is a confirmed liberal on most any social, economic or other question.  He would seem to have little reason to be interested in the military, but he blogs quite regularly about naval history (his series on battleships is outstanding) as well as any tidbit concerning interesting military technology that catches his eye.  Several months ago, he ran a story about an interesting Russian AFV (an armoured fighting vehicle) with some truly impressive footage of said vehicle shooting off ATGM's (that is, anti tank guided missiles).  His final sentence was "God, I miss the Soviet Empire..."

I understood.  Robb wasn't saying he missed Stalinism, or Gulags like Kolya, or the any of the myriad miseries of communism.  He missed an adversary that built such amazing STUFF.  Y'know...like kewl looking tanks that shoot missiles that can flip up in the air and attack another tank from right overhead.  It's the same reason I obsess over old Soviet tanks and aircraft...and why my heart beats a little faster when I see exciting new aircraft coming out of the Sukoi plants, or I hear a rumor that Mikoyan-Gurevitch is building something new.  Of course, I don't think too hard about the application end of that exciting hardware.  No doubt,  that P-51 pilot was thinking quite a bit as his hand to curled up into a knot as he flew back to his base in England that fateful day.

Back to those B-29's.  As I said, they were graceful and utterly awe-inspiring.  Of course, the bombs began to drop.  They fell in the hundreds, fluttering in the slipstream and looking no more harmful than a hand full of children's baubles.  The camera panned down to focus on a coastal city.  Silently, the orange blossoms of death began to appear.  The effect was surreal, as the white, concentric shock waves and giant gouts of flame collected together to form a hideous, obscene new landscape under an innocuous and even beautiful array of color, seen from such a distance.  I was dimly aware that my hand was over my mouth and I was openly weeping.  I could only keep repeating "OmyGod OmyGod OmyGod" as the tears ran between my fingers and fell to my lap.  I didn't know what else to say.  I was watching a city die.  The airplanes I loved were killing it.

I know the awful mathematics of industrialized warfare.  I have studied them for over thirty years.  I know the history of hate and atrocities committed by Japan.  I know every reason we had to carpet the cities with HE, magnesium and napalm.  In that instant, they still rang false, as I grieved for men, women and children I had never known, and never could know.  Still, I didn't know what to think about my own fascination with such a seeming macabre aspect of war: that being the very implements we use to wage it.  After all, we are never half so clever as when we devise a new interesting way to kill one another.

I'm not going off to join "Swords to Plowshares" any time soon.  Like it or not, war is a natural human state, and will be with us as long as we are around.  I'm not going to stop admiring aircraft, or rushing to check details on a new AFV.  I'm not going to forget that unnamed city, though.  We can't separate ourselves entirely form the horror of wars...even absolutely just and necessary wars...that are waged in our name and on our behalf.  Those people in Japan had names, and lives, and loved...then bled and died.  They deserved better, even if there was no other way.

Ah, early summer in Paris, when a young man's fancy turns to l'amour the thunder of military afterburning turbofan engines and the most sophisticated combat aircraft in the world.  Sweden took delivery of it's first Eurocopter  NH290 from NHIndustries and its consortium partners, Eurocopter, AgustaWestland and Stork Fokker.


The brand new F-35 also made a splash and earned rave reviews from test pilots as it prepares to enter full production  with nine aircraft already on the assembly line.

Sadly, this will be my last post for awhile, as I will be traveling to Indianapolis for two months on an aviation work contract, so I will share some of the Paris airshow highlites with all of you, and wish everybody a SAFE and happy summer, and I will see you all again this fall.  Enjoy!







  You can find more here.  I'll try to get back into something of a regualr military news and analysis format when I get back in September, so watch for more then.  Thanks to everybody who has dropped by and for the prods, persuasion and occasional threats to start writing!  See you all soon.

It was one of most barbaric and disgusting atrocities of World War II, and hardly anybody knows about it even today.  from 1932 to 1945, the Imperial Japanese Armed Forces maintained a far-flung series of military brothels staffed by the euphemistically termed "ianfu", or "comfort women".  The women pressed into these brothels were mostly from Korea and China, but also from the Philippines, Indonesia, Formosa, Micronesia, Holland, Russia, and anywhere else the Japanese had gained a foothold.  In almost all cases, the women were not there by choice.
Women were seized in slave raids, or deceptively recruited to work in wartime industry.  Japanese officers took considerable pleasure in "breaking in" new girls, who were in shock and pleading for mercy.  Somewhere, a paper is waiting to be written concerning the prevalence of rape and degradation of women in Japanese culture.  You can still see it in the underground sex and violence content of "hentaii" animation today.  It certainly figured into the mass rapes and violent treatment of between 100,000 and 200,000 women in World War II, and the unspeakable slaughter of nearly 350,000 civilians in Nanking in just SEVEN weeks in 1937.
Japanese children won't hear anything about it today, because  Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe issued a denial yesterday that women had ever been forced into sexual slavery under unspeakable conditions to pleasure Japanese troops.  His statement yesterday reversed an earlier, 1992 acknowledgment from the japanese Government that women had been forced into prostitution against their will.  Similarly, Japan still denies the hororific Rape of Nanking, the torture and mass killing of thousands of American, British and Australian POW's, and the use of POW's for biological warfare experiments.

WWII Sex Slaves Testify Against Japan
Yong Soo Lee is one of two South Korean women who testified before the House Foreign Affairs Committee. Associated Press photo by Dennis Cook

Two weeks ago, three courageous survivors of Japanese sex-slave brothels testified before the United States Congress to press for a resolution condemning Japan for the wartime sexual enslavement of women, in addition to demanding an apology and compensation.  For the First time, a caucasian women testified in order to dispel the racist and lingering presumption that this was just an Asian problem.  Jan Ruff, a Dutch citizen by birth and now an Australian, was seized by Japanese soldiers from her mother in an internment camp.



WWII Sex Slaves Testify Against Japan
Jan Ruff O'Herne testifies before the House Foreign Affairs Committee, pleading with U.S. lawmakers to adopt a resolution urging Japan to formally apologize about the Japanese soldiers who raped her and countless other women during World War II. Associated Press photo by Dennis Cook


Here is her story, in her own words.


My experience as a woman in war is one of utter degradation, humiliation and unbearable suffering. During World War Two I was a so-called 'Comfort Woman' for the Japanese Military, a euphemism for military sex slave. I was born in Semarang (Java) and had a most wonderful childhood, until my life was torn apart by the war.

I was nineteen years old, when in 1942 Japanese troops invaded the former Netherlands East Indies (Indonesia). Together with thousands of other women and children I was interned in a Japanese prisoner of war camp for three and a half years.

Many stories have been told about the horrors, insults, brutalities, suffering and starvation of the Dutch women in Japanese prison camps. But one story was never told, the most shameful story of the worst human rights abuse committed by the Japanese during World War 2. The story of the 'Comfort Women' and how these women were forcibly seized, against their will, to provide sexual services to the Japanese Imperial Army. The world ignored these atrocities for almost fifty years. It has taken fifty years for these women's ruined lives to become a human rights issue.

Why did it take so long? Perhaps the answer is that these violations were carried out against women. Women are always the victims in war. We have all heard it said: They are only women, this is what happens to women during war. Rape is part of war, as if war makes it right. Rape in war is a power game. It is used as a reward for the soldiers. In some countries like Bosnia, Rwanda and Kosovo, rape is also used as a weapon, and a means to genocide.

It was February 1944. I had been interned in Ambarawa prison camp together with my mother and two young sisters for two years. I was returning to my barrack from one of my heavy camp duties. Suddenly there was a great commotion in the camp. A number of Japanese military arrived in army trucks. We were expecting to be called for roll call. However this time the order was given: All single girls from seventeen years and up were to line up in the compound. We did not like this command and immediately became suspicious.

There was an air of fear throughout the camp, and some girls tried to hide. We were assembled in a long line and we trembled with fear as a number of high-ranking Japanese military walked towards us. We did not like the look of these Japanese, it was the way they looked us up and down. The way they laughed among each other and pointed at us. The young girls stood there frightened, heads down, not daring to look up. The Japanese paced up and down the line. At times our chins would be lifted so they could see our face.

Up and down they marched, sneering, pointing, touching. After some discussion among themselves half the girls were sent away. I was left standing with still a long line-up of girls. My whole body was trembling with fear. The selection process continued until ten girls were ordered to step forward. The others could go back to their anxious waiting mothers. I was one of the ten.

I could hear crying and shouting of the women, as they tried to pull us back, fighting bravely with the Japanese.

Through our interpreter we were told to pack a small bag of belongings and report immediately to the front gate, where the trucks were waiting to take us away. We were not told any details. The girls and their mothers and indeed the whole camp, protested with all their might. The entire camp was in uproar, screaming, crying, fighting.

It was all in vain. Oppressed and bullied by the enemy, broken and enslaved helplessly by a brutal force, we were sheep for the slaughter. The guards stood over us as we packed a few things. I packed my Bible, prayer book, crucifix and rosary beads. At that moment they seemed to me the most important things, like weapons they would keep me safe and strong.

Flanked by the guards we were taken to the front gate, and we had to say goodbye to our mothers and loved ones. My mother and I could not find words to speak. We looked into one another's eyes and threw our arms around each other. There, in that moment, it seemed as if we both died in each other's arms.

By this time all the girls were crying, as we were forced into the trucks.

We huddled together like frightened animals. We had no idea where we would be taken.

We soon realised that we were travelling on the main road to Semarang. As we came closer to the city, we drove through the hillside suburb of Semarang. The truck stopped in front of a large house. Seven girls were told to get out. I was one of them. We were soon to find out what sort of a house we were forced to live in. Nervously we kept together as we were ushered into the house by the Japanese officer who seemed to be in charge. Each girl was shown her own bedroom. I could not sleep that night and neither could the other girls. We ended up altogether in the one big bed, huddled together in fear, and finding strength in prayer.

The next day some more Japanese came to our house, and we were all called to the living room. We were made to understand that we were here for the sexual pleasure of the Japanese. In other words we found ourselves in a brothel. We were to obey at all times, we were not allowed to leave the house. In fact, the house was guarded and trying to escape was useless. We were in this house for only one purpose, for the Japanese to have sex with us. We were turned into 'military sex slaves'. My whole body trembled with fear, my whole life was destroyed and collapsing from under my feet.

We protested loudly that we would never allow this to happen to us, that it was against all human rights, that we would rather die than allow this to happen to us. The Japanese stood there laughing, saying that they were our captors and they could do with us as they liked, and if we did not obey our families would suffer. They produced papers for us to sign, written in Japanese, which we could not understand. We refused to sign. We were beaten, but did not sign.

The following day we saw the front room of the house being turning into a reception area. We were ordered to have our photographs taken. We all looked at the camera angrily or with sad expressions on our face. The photos were then placed on a pin-up board in the reception area. We were given Japanese names, and flowers were put in our bedrooms.

A Japanese woman arrived at the house.

'At last, a woman,' I thought. 'A woman would understand and help us, surely.' But the woman showed no pity either. In the meantime the whole house was being geared up to function as a brothel.

Opening night arrived. We were all terrified and we huddled together in the dining room. We were all virgins and none of us knew anything about sex. We were all so innocent and we tried to find out from each other what to expect and what was going to happen to us.

As we sat there waiting, fear had completely overpowered our bodies. Even up to this day I shall never forget that fear, and in a way it has been with me all my life. I knew that the only thing that could help us now was prayer. I opened my prayer book and led the girls in prayer.

As we were praying we could hear the arrival of more and more military to the house, the crude laughter and boots treading the floor, the excitement among the officers. We were ordered to each go to our own rooms, but we refused to go. We stayed closely together, clinging to each other for safety. My whole body was burning up with fear. It is a fear I can't possibly describe, a feeling I shall never forget and never lose. Even after more than fifty years I still experience this feeling of total fear going through my body and through all my limbs, burning me up. It comes to me at the oddest moments, I wake up with it in nightmares and still feel it just lying in bed at night. But worst of all I have felt this fear every time my husband was making love to me. I have never been able to enjoy intercourse as a consequence of what the Japanese did to me.

The house was filling up with Japanese. We sat waiting in fear, huddled together till the time had come and the worst was to happen. One by one the girls were dragged into their bedrooms crying, protesting. They pleaded, they screamed, they kicked and fought with all their might. This continued until all the girls were forcefully taken to their rooms.

After a while I hid under the dining-room table. I could hear the crying coming from the bedrooms. I could feed my heart pounding with fear. I held tight to my wooden crucifix that I had tucked into my belt around my waist. I had been wearing the crucifix like this continually. I though that wearing it might convey some message, and it would keep me strong.

Eventually I was found and dragged out from under the table. A large Japanese officer stood in front of me, looking down at me, grinning at me. I kicked him on the shins. He just stood there laughing. My fighting, kicking, crying and protesting made no difference. I screamed, 'Don't! Don't! and then in Indonesian, 'Djangan, djangan.' He pulled me up and dragged me into my bedroom, he closed the door and I ran into a corner of the room. I pleaded with him in a mixture of English and Indonesian, and tried to make him understand that I was here against my will and that he had no right to do this to me.

I curled myself up in the corner like a hunted animal that could not escape. 'O God, help me.' I prayed, 'Please God, don't let this happen to me.'

The Japanese officer was in total control of the situation. He had paid a lot of money for opening night, and he was obviously annoyed, consequently he became very angry. He took his sword out of its scabbard and pointed it at me, threatening me with it. I told him that he could kill me, that I was not afraid to die and that I would not give myself to him. I repeated again and again, 'Djangan, djangan, don't, don't.' But he kept pointing the sword at me, touching my body with it, threatening to kill me. I pleaded with him to allow me to say some prayers before he would kill me. While I was thus praying he started to undress himself, and I realised that he had no intention of killing me. I would have been no good to him dead. He was getting impatient by now and he threw me on the bed. He tore at my clothes and ripped them off. He threw himself on top of me, pinning me down under his heavy body.

I tried to fight him off, I kicked him, I scratched him, but he was too strong. The tears were streaming down my face as he raped me. It seemed as if it would never stop.

I can find no words to describe this most inhuman and brutal rape. To me it was worse than dying. My whole body was shaking when he eventually left the room. I gathered what was left of my clothing and ran off to the bathroom. I wanted to wash all the dirt, the shame and hurt off my body.

In the bathroom I found some of the other girls. We were all in shock and crying, not knowing what to do, trying to help each other. We washed ourselves as if it could wash away all that happened to us. I dared not go back to the dining room and decided to hide myself. I hid in a room on the back verandah. My whole body was shaking with fear. 'Not again, I can't go through this again,' I thought.

But after a while the angry voices and footsteps came closer, and I was dragged out of my hiding place. The night was not over yet, there were more Japanese waiting. The terror started all over again. I never realised suffering could be so intense as this. And this was only the beginning.

At the end of that first horrific night, in the early hours of the morning, seven frightened, exhausted girls huddled together to cry over lost virginity, to give each other comfort and strength. How many times was each one raped that night? What could we do? We were so utterly helpless. How could this have happened to us?

In the daytime we were supposed to be safe, although the house was always full of Japanese coming and going, socialising, eyeing us up and down. Consequently we were often raped in the daytime as well. As soon as it was getting dark, the house would be 'opened,' and a terrible fear would burn up my body. Each evening I tried to hide in a different place, but I was always found then dragged into my room, after severe beatings.

One morning I decided to cut off all my hair to make myself look as unattractive as possible. I cut my hair until I was quite bald. 'No one would want me like this,' I thought. But of course, it did not help me one bit. The rumour spread that one of the girls had cut off all her hair, and it turned me into a curiosity object.

As the months passed all of us girls lost weight. We hardly touched our food. We shared our fears and our pain and humiliations. We were exhausted and our nerves were stretched to the limit. Continually we put in a protest to any high ranking officer that visited the brothel, but it always fell on deaf ears.

Always and everytime the Japanese raped me I tried to fight them off. Never once did any Japanese rape me without a violent struggle and fight. Often they threatened to kill me, often they severely beat me.

During the fights I hit out strongly and delivered mighty blows and kicks and scratches, and injured the Japanese quite often. Because of this and because of my persistent fights, I was told that if I did not stop the fighting they would move me to a brothel down town for soldiers; a brothel with native girls where conditions were worse.

One day a Japanese doctor arrived at our house. Immediately I thought that he would be able to help us. Surely, as a doctor he would have compassion for us. I requested to speak to the doctor. But he showed no interest, no signs of compassion or apology. Instead, the doctor ended up raping me on the first day of his visit.

In the days leading up to the doctor's visit, gynaecological type of equipment had been installed in one of the rooms on the back verandah. From now on we were to be examined for any possible diseases. Each time the doctor visited us he raped me in the daytime. The door of the doctor's examination room was always left open, and to humiliate us even more, any other Japanese were allowed to be looking on while we were being examined. They would come into the room or stand at the open door to look at us while we were being examined. This humiliation was unbearable, and as horrific as being raped.

More anxiety came when I realised that I was pregnant. I was absolutely terrified. How could I give birth to and love a child conceived in such horror. Like pillars of strength the girls gave me their support and they advised me to tell our Japanese woman guard that I was pregnant. I approached a woman, and as an answer to the problem she produced a bottle full of tablets. I could not kill a foetus, not even this one. I continued to refuse the tablets. Eventually they were forced down my throat. I started my period shortly after.

During the time in the brothel the Japanese had abused me and humiliated me. I was left with a body that was torn and fragmented everywhere. There was not an inch of my body that did not hurt. The Japanese had ruined my young life. They had stripped me of everything. They had taken everything away from me: my youth, my self-esteem, my dignity, my freedom, my possessions, my family. But there was one thing that they could never take away from me. It was my Faith and my love for God. This was mine, it was my most precious possession and nobody, nobody could take that away from me. It was my deep Faith in God that helped me survive all that I suffered at the brutal, savage hands of the Japanese.

I have forgiven the Japanese for what they did to me, but I can never forget.

When the war was over, the atrocities done to me would haunt me for the rest of my life. I could not talk about it to anyone, the shame was too great. I had no counseling, and I had to get on with my life as if nothing had happened. After seeing the Korean 'Comfort Women' on TV, I decided to back them up in their plight for an apology, and for justice and compensation. In December 1992, I broke my 50 years of silence at the International public hearing on Japanese war crimes held in Tokyo, and revealed one of the worst human rights abuses to come out of World War II. It is by telling my story, that I hope these atrocities against women in war will never be forgotten, and will never happen again.

Jan Ruff-O'Herne

Note: This speech is to be included in the forthcoming publication 'Women and War' published by Kluwer International Press.

It is far past time for Japan to confess to the shameful and despicable acts committed during World War II.  Eve Ensler has added the stories of the Comfort Women to her work "The Vagina Monologues", and I quote her here:

Say it, Japanese Government. 
Say it. 
Say "sorry".

What's that sound, Airman?!



Jet noise, Sir! The sound of FREEDOM!!

F-22 makes mark at Red Flag in it's first appearance according to a story at DefenseTalk.com

"Pilots from the 94th Fighter Squadron at Langley Air Force Base, Va., are flying F-22s against Red Flag aggressors, with pilots from the Royal Australian Air Force of Australia, and the Royal Air Force of England.

The 94th FS deployed 14 Raptors and 197 Airmen to participate in the Red Flag exercise. Including the F-22s, more than 200 aircraft are participating. Among the foreign aircraft involved are the RAF's GR-4 Tornados and RAAF's F-111 Aardvark. In addition, the F-22s are flying with the B-2 Spirit, F-117 Nighthawk, F-15 Eagle, F-16 Fighting Falcon and more."

Lt. Colonel Dirk Smith, commander of the 94th Fighter Squadron, says, "The training provided by the Red Flag adversaries is like no other on earth.  Our pilots are experiencing a tremendous learning curve."  In addition to air to air combat, Red Flag excersises train US and allied pilots in air to ground combat, with simulated surface-to-air missiles, anti aircraft artillery and electronics warfare thrown in.

The presence of the F-22 is to "foster and maintain an unfair advantage over the enemies of the United States", says Maj. Jack Miller, a Spokesman for Langley AFB.  "Our joint forces don't want a fair fight.  We want every fight we enter to be patently unfair--to the other guy."

In a related story, the first over-seas deployment of F-22's to Kadena AFB has been delayed for a few days due to software glitches according to USAF Captain Jason Medina, who denied reports that the North Koreans had demanded that the fighters not be deployed.  Problems with the defensive avionics software has been a concern, according to a report from the Pentagon's Office of Opperational Test and Evaluation.  Nonetheless, USAF General Ronald Keyes declared the F-22 to be operationally ready last month.

Senior Airman William Rotroff reviews F-22 Raptor data on a portable maintenance aid during Red Flag Feb. 6 at Nellis Air Force Base, Nev.

Wing Area:	840 sq ft
Engine Thrust Class:	35,000 lb
Level Speed:	921 mph
Total Length:	62.08 ft
Wing Span:	44.5 ft
Horizontal Tail Span:	29ft
Tail Span:	18'10"
Total Height:	16.67ft
Track Width:	10.6ft
Engines:	Pratt & Whitney F-119
Max. Takeoff Weight:	60,000 lb (27,216 kg)
Max. External Stores:	5,000 lb (2,270 kg)
Weight Empty:	31,670 lb (14,365 kg)
Ceiling:	50,000 ft (15,240 m)
Crew:	1
G Limit:	+9 G
First Flight:	September 7th 1997

The F22 Raptor’s airframe is comprised mainly of four (4) large “chunks”, or pieces that are produced by separate companies (see illustration below for part and manufacturer).

Visuals and specs from F.22.com

As to how this fighter stacks up against other contemporary aircraft is an open guess, and the Air Force wants to keep the bad guys guessing as long as possible.  I'm sorry I can't provide specifics on how the F-22 compares against the Rafale, Eurofighter EFA , or the SU-27/30 and MiG-35.  Be sure to check out both the DefenseTalk.com and especially F.22.com links in this story for more info.
Also, on June 8th, the Lockheed Martin F-22 Team will be awarded the most prestigious award in aviation: The Collier trophy.

NAA President and CEO David Ivey called the F-22 “a revolution in aeronautics,” and pointed out the fighter’s performance in Northern Edge saying it “established the unquestionable superiority of the Raptor, a culmination of years of visionary design, rigorous testing, and innovative manufacturing.”

Ala over at Blonde Sagacity has tagged me!  What it means is that I now have to divulge SIX interesting, idiosyncratic or embarrassing things about myself!  Here are the "rules"...

"Each player of this game starts with the 6 weird things about you. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says you are tagged in their comments and tell them to read your blog."

Well, that shouldn't be TOOOO hard, so here goes...

1.  I play tabletop miniature wargames!  Yep, I play with (expensive!) toy plastic and metal soldiers in a series of games called Warhammer Fantasy and Warhammer 40,000.  Here is a view of some Warhammer 40K stuff from Forge World.




2.  I like to sleep in silly sheep pajamas I stole from my spouse.  I had to get her replacements to make up for taking them.

3.  I tend to have arthritis problems in my left foot, which makes it difficult to wear heels.  So, when you see me excuse myself from the table at a nice restaurant to go to the ladies room, it's probably to deal with my aching toes.

4.  Most people who bother to keep reading material in the bathroom tend to make sure it is lite and pleasant.  You know, things like "Town and Country", "Redbook", or the local newspaper.  A survey of the four bathrooms (sheesh!) in our new townhouse revealed what I am reading in them:
."The Pelopennesian War", by Donald Kagan
"1805:Austerlitz (Napoleon and the destruction of the Third Coalition)" by Robert Goetz
"Eyewitness To The Civil War" by Neil Kagan and Stephan Hyslop
"The Illustrated Directory Of Warships From 1860 To The Present" by David Miller
"Jane's AFV Recognition Handbook" (second edition) by Christopher Foss

Maybe I need some friendlier reading stuff for guests...

5.  I like movies of all kinds, but I am a sucker for Disney animation!  I don't know how many times I've watched "the Little Mermaid", or "Beauty And The Beast".  I also own the soundtracks...

Screenshot from Beauty and the Beast, taken by Author for Wikipedia. Copyright © 1991, 2002 The Walt Disney Company

6.  I was a ballet dancer.  Stop snickering.  Really, stop already!  You're spraying the screen.  I was actually pretty serious about studying dance, but that was many years and fifty or sixty pounds ago.  I danced with several minor companies, including The Oregon State ballet, and Ballet South in Savannah, Georgia.  Yes, I kept dancing even while I was in the Army.  I didn't broadcast it for obvious reasons, and the people who knew about it didn't really care.  It may have helped that I was engaged at the time to my dance partner, who was beautiful and looked great on my arm. (That relationship didn't last, and I'm MUCH happier with the wonderful woman I'm with.  Most gals wouldn't put up with a husband who becomes a girlfriend)  My favorite ballet is Giselle...

Photo from the Bolshoi Ballet


...and my favorite dancers are Allesandra Ferri

www.ballerinagallery.com/ferri.htm


and Tatiana Terekhova of the Kirov Ballet.

(photo from The Ballerina Gallery)

So, now that you know quite a bit more about me, I'm calling SIX people to 'fess up about themselves!!  Front and center!
Cynewulfe at Lost Tales of Exeter.
Scottie at Heartland Patriot
E.M. at American Princess
GunnyG at The Anti-Liberal Zone
Rob at Lawers, Guns and Money
Jimmy at Jimmy Carter's Closet


Time for Truth, everybody!  Hope you all had fun with my confession... ;-)

Beijing seems to have jumped the shark and done something unusually provocative.  While usually inscrutable, Chinese actions can provide some occasional insight into power/policy disputes within the Communist Party and illuminate concerns that they have with their global position.  In this case, it's the latter, as an hitherto unseen missile intercepted and destroyed an aging  Feng Yun 1C  (Fy-1C)   polar orbiting meteorological satellite.
The ASAT was launched from the Xichang Space Center, or very close by according to  Defense Tech.org .

Details emerging from space sources indicate that the Chinese Feng Yun 1C (FY-1C) polar orbit weather satellite... was attacked by an ASAT [anti-satellite] system launched from or near the Xichang Space Center.

The attack is believe to have occurred as the weather satellite flew at 530 mi. altitude 4 deg. west of Xichang, located in Sichuan province...

Although intelligence agencies must complete confirmation of the test, the attack is believed to have occurred at about 5:28 p.m. EST Jan. 11. U. S. intelligence agencies had been expecting some sort of test that day, sources said....

USAF radar reports on the Chinese FY-1C spacecraft have been posted once or twice daily for years, but those reports jumped to about 4 times per day just before the alleged test.

The USAF radar reports then ceased Jan. 11, but then appeared for a day showing "signs of orbital distress". The reports were then halted again. The Air Force radars may well be busy cataloging many pieces of debris, sources said.

 

Photo Defense Tech.org

As for reasons why that China would do this,  the China Matters Blog  theorizes that China is positioning for a realignment of space superiority.  There is wide spread speculation that China is also sending a message regarding interference in Taiwan .  See here...
* China Space Attack: Unstoppable
* Beijing's Next-Gen Sat Strike
* Satellite Killer's Broad Impact
* Why Did China Smack the Sat?





Meanwhile,  Spacewar.com  is running a story that Japan and the U.S. are considering a joint missile defence system.  Also, it is reporting that India is developing an IRBM/ICBM with the potential to hit anywhere in China.  China has a very modest deterrence force of some two dozen ICBM's , and may be feeling some pressure here, as Beijing must suspect that any U.S. ABM system is certainly meant more to stop Chinese missiles then North Korean missiles.                        


Photo from the Center for Internation Security and Cooperation.

The Chinese are introducing their entry to the global arms export market.  Here are some pix...




From Global Security.Org...

Chengdu J-10 (Jian-10 Fighter aircraft 10) / F-10

There has been much speculation on the development of China's J-10 fighter. Many suggested the aircraft's design was based on the Lavi- the unsuccessful attempt by Israel to develop an indigenous F-16 fighter. Only in December 2006 did China officially acknowledged the fielding of the J-10, when the PLA Air Force (PLAAF) released videos and photos of the aircraft via China Central Television (CCTV) and Xinhua News Agency. By then, it was apparent that the J-10 has the potential of becoming one of the most significant fighters in the next few decades.

Initially developed in 1988, the J-10 bears a strong resemblance to other fighters that came from that same time.  The delta wing configuration confers advantages in stability, stall speed and structural strength and is typical of at least four other contemporary fighters.  By 1993, wind tunnel testing had begun, and the J-10 evolved from an air-superiority fighter to a multi-role fighter that could perform sub-sonic ground attack missions.  The first flight took place in 1996 with the help of a " Russian made AI-31FN turbofan engine."

Production began in 2002, with a PLAAF (People's Liberation Army Air Force) initial order of 300 aircraft.  This may be reduced due to imports of Russian SU-30 fighters.  The Chinese seem intent on expanding the J-10's ground attack capabilities.  Chinese designation of the Jiang-10 (fighter-10) has changed to the Quin Shi-10 (attack-10) to reflect this.  Russian involvement in the program continues, with assistance including "...advanced multifunction radars, navigation and targeting systems, ECM suite, and missile warning and defense systems."

The J-10 is expected to become a serious competitor with late model Sukhoi fighters in the export market, as well as bolstering the PLAAF's offensive capability against Taiwan.

Here are some views of similar fighters to give you an idea of how similar the J-10 is to other aircraft.  First up is the SAAB Gripen...




Next we have the French Rafale...



This is the EuroFighter Typhoon...



And finally, we have the F-16XL, which was the primary competitor with the F-15 E Strike Eagle for the replacement of the F-111.  Beautiful fighter, and a shame we didn't see more of it, but you can see it reflected in the J-10 all the same...

The particulars are in, the pundits have gossiped, and the President has spoken.






Here is some sample feedback.:

Thad at American Princess says: However, I give the president credit for what appears, at least on paper, to be a better plan, a plan with clear guidelines and goals. Furthermore, I commend him for finally setting a timetable of sorts with the Iraqis to get their crap together. My main concern is that the 18 Iraqi brigades may not come about. The performance of Iraqis has been scattershot at best and hideous at worst. And even 20,000 more troops is ultimately a drop in the bucket. The Powell Doctrine was scoffed by Don Rumsfeld, but he turned out to be right about how to run a war. I hope the plan works. I hope that we can turn this around. I'm trying as hard as possible to be positive and optimistic, even though I feel deep down that we don't have the level of armed forces we realistically needed to make this work.


Sic Semper Tyrannis  is pessimistic.

Last night President Bush announced his adoption of a tri-partite plan for the pacification of Iraq in the context of his vision of the world as a Manichean array of the righteous opposed by the evil, a moiety reminiscent of the war in heaven described so ably by Milton, among others.

His plan represents the application of the counterinsurgency doctrine followed with mixed results by the United States in the 20th Century after its development by the French Army.  This doctrine has now been "discovered?" by General Petraeus and friends and described in prettier words and a more literary style than the nasty old "paras" of my experience could ever have managed. 

As Bernard Fall elucidated the doctrine: "Counterinsurgency = Counter-guerrilla operations + Political Action + Civic Action." 

The Armchair Generalist didn't like it at all.

Once More Unto the Breach, Dear Friends

Well, the president has made his speech. I didn't watch it, I really have trouble listening to that voice when he gives long talks. Personal issue - besides, that's what the newspapers are for. Matt at MountainRunner has a good list of the major initiatives within the president's plan. Also see this DefenseTech post. Frankly, I don't think 21,500 more troops is enough to do the job, and I really question the statement that that number is what the Joint Chiefs recommended.

The Anchoress approved, and has links...

I’m probably the last kid to write something on the president’s speech last night - had other stuff going on - so I’m going to assume you guys have seen most of the “big fish” reactions.

My own? I thought it was a good speech, not delivered as well as some past Bush speeches, but well enough. I was glad to hear that this new tactic would also mean a change in how some things are done. I pray it will be enough to turn things around so that we might finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. But I think it will be a hard year.