The New Jesse MacBeth/Scott Beauchamp

Same old, same old. A deserter tells the MSM precisely what they want to hear about combat in Iraq, quits alleging war crimes and abuses, becomes a celebrity on the left, and garners huge praise for his "brave" book by major MSM organizations.

Trouble is, it sounds like 99% bullshit.

Is that Sgt. Rock or author of A Deserter's Tale Joshua Keys? Hard to tell, I know.

Anyway (click though to the blogs linked by Blackfive for these details) this cat claims a lot of stuff. In some accounts, he's a patriotic war-machine who can't wait to take on terrorists, enlisting after 9/11 with that intent. In other accounts, he claims he was assured he would never be deployed overseas (after 9/11? Really?) and thus was recruited via a lie.

He was a combat engineer in a unit that only saw five deaths the entire time the unit was deployed in Iraq (not just during Keys' stint), and yet has a lot of kill-crazy action-hero war stories. Such as:

My sergeant let loose with his .50 cal Machine Gun. Blasting away with bullets about 6 inches long, he shot the car and brought it to a halt. I saw a trail of gas leaking from the car. The sergeant shifted his gun, aimed at the trail of gas, and shot again. The line of gas caught fire, and flew back toward the truck, and when it hit the gas tank, the truck exploded in a ball of fire.

That happened to me, too. Last week. Villains had just kidnapped my daughter and were threatening to kill her unless I went to South America and assassinated a political leader for them.

Also, I got to third base with Rae Dawn Chong.

Now if that seemed a touch cinematic, check out this wonderful passage from his book:

Then something happened that haunts my dreams to this day. All the women were led back inside the house and our entire platoon was ordered to stand guard outside it. Four U.S. military men entered the house with the women. They closed the doors. We couldn’t see anything through the windows. I don’t know who the military men were, or what unit they were from, but I can only conclude that they outranked us and were at least at the level of first lieutenant or above. That’s because our own second lieutenant Joyce was there, and his presence did not deter them.

Normally, when we conducted a raid, we were in and out in 30 minutes or less. You never wanted to stay in one place for too long for fear of exposing yourself to mortar attacks.

But our platoon was made to stand guard outside that house for about an hour. The women started shouting and screaming. The men stayed in there with them, behind closed doors. It went on and on and on.

Finally, the men came out and told us to get the hell out of there. It struck me then that we, the American soldiers, were the terrorists. We were terrorizing Iraqis. Intimidating them. Beating them. Destroying their homes. Probably raping them. The ones we didn’t kill had all the reasons in the world to become terrorists themselves.

Why, it's so vivid. I can almost see precisely this happening in my mind's eye.

My mind's eye is seeing something a bit like this:

Incidentally, that happened to me, too. That's why I hate Sean Penn so much. He put a grenade under me when I was going to the bathroom in an aluminum shithouse. And so I was all like, "Screw you, Sean Penn, most rikki-tik. Totally uncool, Sean Penn. Beaucoup uncool."

I also suspect Sean Penn had something to do with killing my beloved Jesus-like sergeant Willem DaFoe, but I can't prove it. Yet.

There is of course the inevitable hippie guitar ovation to the brave Joshua Keys, over at BlackFive. Who says tears are still streaming down his face from laughing so hard.

I'd read this guy's book, but it would force me to relive too many nightmares. Like the time I went to this millionaire's island and wound up being hunted by t-rexes and velociraptors for two hours.

By the way, I got to third base with Laura Dern, too. I think she dug my suppressed-but-evident Australian diction.

By the Way: Although I kind of want to trap them, let me pre-but the lefties coming in to say "at least he served" and call me a chickenhawk:

For one thing, he deserted. Let's not put too much stress on that "at least he served" crap.

For another thing, the war in Iraq is winding down with few casualties and troops shipping out every month, the war in Afghanistan (which lefties claim to be all gung-ho to fight) is winding up with at least 20,000 soldiers soon to be deployed there, and your boy is now President.

So, um, before you fall back on your old chickenhawk slur...

Let me preemptively dump it on you sorry pansy-assed chickenhawk fucks. Why aren't you signing up to fight the war you claim we can and must win, fighting under a President you helped elect?

More Tales from "In the Shit:" Wiserbud is shopping his memoir:

This one time, when I was deep in the shit, I discovered that a bomb had been attached to my Jeep. My fucking prick battalion commander then came on my walkie-talkie and told me that if my speed dropped below 50mph, it would detonate the bomb.

If it wasn't for the help of the smoking hot Vietnamese chick who looked a little like Sandra Bullock, I'd be dead right now.

Later, I fucked her.

True story.

That also happened to me. Right before I took the red pill and got all sorts of karate superpowers.

Another Rave Review: This one from "Scott Beauchamp" himself:

His mindthoughts create eyetears on my headface.

posted by Ace at 04:58 PM

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