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Op-Ed
Nov 24, 2008 8:45:21 GMT -5
Post by clw on Nov 24, 2008 8:45:21 GMT -5
Well said, Boston. Although entertainingly bizarre at times Strange often takes a view that causes me to reevaluate. It good to have young people delving into history -- and rare.
And in the interest of 'mending fences', I'll throw out a concept for discussion. I think IF Custer was wounded (probably not killed) at a ford, I think it was approaching Ford D. And I don't think any troops actually reached the river. As to evidence, isn't it fair to say that little true evidence exists to support much of anything that happened on the Custer field? That said, there are records (though conflicting) that mention the bodies of Kellog, Voss and Boyer were found in the general vicinity where Custer could have been wounded.
Should have put this on the 'Custer Wounded' thread, but what the heck.
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Op-Ed
Nov 24, 2008 11:25:11 GMT -5
Post by Melani on Nov 24, 2008 11:25:11 GMT -5
I find myself changing my opinions on a regular basis, as I consider each theory that is brought up. I'm still waiting for the great revelation.
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Op-Ed
Nov 24, 2008 12:07:18 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Nov 24, 2008 12:07:18 GMT -5
I find myself changing my opinions on a regular basis, as I consider each theory that is brought up. I'm still waiting for the great revelation. That is the most intelligent post any of us has ever put up here! Best wishes, Fred.
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Op-Ed
Nov 25, 2008 10:20:11 GMT -5
Post by boston on Nov 25, 2008 10:20:11 GMT -5
Fred: Don't we know it!
clw: I am sorry, but I was the hunter who ran that elephant through your fence. Damnedest thing I ever saw in my life! You see I was out hunting elephants and ran across a couple of old goats. Well the kids being frightened as they were, ran from the mothers and spooked the yearlings who were suckling just across the fence. Well the Goats ran one way the kids the other. The goats leaping the fence and scaring the horses into a panic. The horses made for the barn yard at a dead run, and instead of stopping crashed the wooden fence at the other end.
Just when I thought it was all over, that damned pink elephant showed up again! The goats had by that time, re-crossed the fence and had united with the kids in the nearby woods. The horses went, god only knows where, because they had disappeared over a hill by the windmill. Well, I was determined as hell to get that elephant, you see, when all of a sudden the elephant turned on ME! Nothing was nearby, except the woods and the barn and I had to decide quickly. I made for the barn at a dead run!!! The elephant was closing fast and I didn’t think that I would make it. When all of a sudden, an old goat appeared from behind the barn and charged straight for the elephant.
Well, I came-to a couple of hours later, with a splitting headache, and it felt like someone had gut punched me. The old goat was just standing there chewing his cud, and staring at me as if I was some kind of poltroon, with a mean look in his eye. Thinking I could bluff my way out of the situation: I arose slowly, speaking soft words of encouragement to that old cantankerous goat, when the horses without the colts returned at a gallop. They were bearing down on me and the old goat at an incredible rate, and neither of us was moving. I; for fear of what the goat would do, and he, just waiting for me to run!
I thought at the time, that I heard a horn, could in fact swear that I did. And it reminded me of Gary Owen being played. But it was behind me, and I wasn’t turning around to find out for fear that the goat would take advantage of the moment.
What happened next, I really don’t know. You see when I woke up I was in some kind of hospital, in a padded room! I had these incredible bruises on me where the old goat must have hit me, and what looked like a boot print on my behind, it was imprinted with a strange mark… G.A.C. - U.S. 7th CAV.
About that time a nurse came in to see how I was doing and offered me a gown imprinted with pink elephants on it. Although I was not appropriately dressed, if at all, I declined her generous offer, I’m sure you understand why. It’s been day’s since the occurrence. And after my release, which didn’t come easy: I tried to make my way back to your place to help you mend your fence and apologize. When I ran across a woman who was selling Honey dew’s, but a mile from your place. Well after feasting on that for a while, I finally made it back, but was not cherishing the memories.
Barring any pick elephants showing, I think I will be alright, and can help you mend your fence now. Just keep that old goat away from me!
Wishing you and yours, Best wishes on this Thanksgiving eve: Boston
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Op-Ed
Nov 25, 2008 13:39:06 GMT -5
Post by clw on Nov 25, 2008 13:39:06 GMT -5
That old goat will never bother you again. Rest assured.
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Op-Ed
Nov 26, 2008 1:53:28 GMT -5
Post by strange on Nov 26, 2008 1:53:28 GMT -5
I find myself changing my opinions on a regular basis, as I consider each theory that is brought up. I'm still waiting for the great revelation. I actually have had that "great revelation" of sorts. At least, with everything I've wanted to learn. I can be wrong, very often, but I get what I want to find. For instance, I made a sin of being too fond of Geronimo and looking the other way on some of the bad things that the Apaches would do. I inevitably formed an unbreakable kinship with Geronimo after simply reading his book. I so enjoyed the idea of getting history right from the very udder of a major historical figure, I practically stopped listening to any other piece of information that presented itself. Right or wrong, I definitely have higher place of honour for Geronimo and the Apaches as opposed to the Sioux and their various champions. One major reason being, I did not enjoy how the U.S. government hated the Indians enough to align themselves with a notorious enemy like Mexico. If anything, I thought we owed Geronimo a huge debt of gratitude for kicking the tar out of a country that has vexed us so continuously. It wasn't long after Geronimo's capture, before we were back at war with those sombrero wielding jackals. Geronimo was also very near and dear to my heart for articulating war into simple enough terms, for where I could once again believe in myself if it ever came around that I should dip my brow into the military. For a while, I feared that any thought of consideration toward a military career would turn me into David Berkowitz, or even worse, I also feared being like Patton. Why am I more fearful of becoming Patton? Because Patton is man of high skill who gets real nervous when he's in the thick of things. Its unfortunate that Patton was actually some one who really did hate Indians (as opposed to Custer, who, despite popular belief, had high regard and interest for everything in the direction of the redman.), because Patton is some one who could've really benefited from the type of spirit building that natives use very well. Indians are always in great spirits when they hit a battlefield, thats where the big feathers come in. When you really look at Patton's career, he was essentially built almost as if his life's sole purpose was to command the U.S. army in World War II. Patton was never a huge name for himself before then. He had his big "days like a lion", but nothing to put him on the map as an officer or grant him nation wide acclaim. He was also a very edgy personality who crankily squeaked through wide chapters of his life before finally reaching that moment where everything he had inside became like an Ignited Finger Of God. If you ever think you've heard of someone who was placed at a certain time, for a certain reason, it was Patton in WWII. Strange
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Op-Ed
Nov 26, 2008 9:58:15 GMT -5
Post by thehighwayman on Nov 26, 2008 9:58:15 GMT -5
Strange -I can be wrong, very often,...
Very good. I'm proud of you. That in itself is a great revelation that doesn't come to everyone.
It is the first thing to learn for anyone that wants to learn.
highway
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Op-Ed
Nov 26, 2008 12:15:05 GMT -5
Post by boston on Nov 26, 2008 12:15:05 GMT -5
Sorry guys, but I do have to answer clw: Very interesting conversation though:
clw: Thank you, your kindness will not go un-noticed:
Perhaps you could also solve the problem of the wundering venturer. It’s a wonderful story about an elderly man on a sabbatical in a search for gold, in fact the Lost Dutchman. And while on that sabbatical in 1876 he was attacked by a tribe of wild Indians.
If interested to help; please start a thread in the Boston City Cracker Factory, or the world famous and renowned Boston City Nut Factory.
Boston:
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Op-Ed
Oct 15, 2009 20:14:48 GMT -5
Post by bc on Oct 15, 2009 20:14:48 GMT -5
Quote of the day from a member of another association I belong to:
"There are many committees. Not all of them function. I suggest we form a committee to help non functioning committees to function."
bc
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