Originally published January 25th, 2012.
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The Lexicans · A home for us all.
Reminds me of a theme that ran though Col Charle’s Beckworth’s book on the Delta Force.
Beckworth was the commander of that ill-fated mission to Iran at Desert One, and from his years of experience as a liaison to Britain’s SAS, he molded the Delta Force after them.
Small units, the typical SAS man didn’t have the “spit and polish” of your regular Army but they sure know how to get the mission accomplished.
That is one reason there has always been antagonism between the Special Forces and the regular Army (or Navy I guess)
But I am sure Snake Eater would be more knowledgeable over that – if it exists.
I recall those pleasant, halcyon days in Orlando, Florida back in 1975, wherein I was given the pleasant task to be a recruit battalion yeoman for most of my boot camp career. One of the company commanders was this elderly old gent who wore khakis, and on his chest was this big clump of brass which featured such accessories as a musket and pitchfork-like appurtenance. I later realized he was a SEAL.
Scrawny, quiet, kind. I often wondered why his little company of 80 snot-nosed goobers stood so tall, so straight, so proud–but with a twinge of fear in their eyes… I never saw or heard him raise his voice to them.