Category: A Victory!

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A Victory! COOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hard Nosed Folks Both Good & Bad I am so grateful!! If I was in Charge Interesting stuff Leadership of the highest kind Manly Stuff One Hell of a Good Fight Our Great Kids Paint me surprised by this Real men Soldiering Some Red Hot Gospel there! Stand & Deliver This great Nation & Its People War

Another, this man is one Hell of a stud!! William Frederick Harris

William Frederick Harris (March 6, 1918 – December 7, 1950) was a United States Marine Corps (USMC) lieutenant colonel during the Korean War. The son of USMC General Field Harris, he was a prisoner of war during World War II and a recipient of the Navy Cross for extraordinary heroism during the breakout in the Battle of Chosin Reservoir. He was last seen by American forces on December 7, 1950, was listed missing in action and is presumed to have been killed in action. Harris was featured in the book and film Unbroken.[1][2]

Biography

William Frederick Harris was born on March 6, 1918, at Good Samaritan Hospital in Lexington, Kentucky, to Field Harris (1895–1967) and Katherine Chinn-Harris (1899–1990).[1]

Harris graduated from the United States Naval Academy, Annapolis, Maryland, in the class of 1939. He was in A Company, 1st Battalion, 4th Marines[3] and was captured by Japanese forces during the Battle of Corregidor in May 1942.

He escaped with Edgar Whitcomb, future governor of Indiana,[4] and on May 22, 1942, swam 8+1⁄2 hours across Manila Bay to Bataan, where he joined Filipino guerrillas fighting Japan just after the Battle of Bataan.[5] In the summer of 1942, Harris and two others left Whitcomb and attempted to sail to China in a motorboat, but the engine failed and the boat drifted for 29 days with little food or water. The monsoon blew them back to an island in the southern part of the Philippines where they split up and he joined another resistance group.[6] Harris headed towards Australia hoping to rejoin American forces he heard were fighting in Guadalcanal, but he was recaptured in June[7] or September 1943[8] by Japan on Morotai island, Indonesia, around 1,000 miles (1,600 km) from Bataan.[9][10]

Harris was taken to Ōfuna POW camp, arriving February 13, 1944[11] and became acquainted with Louis Zamperini. Harris experienced malnutrition and brutal treatment at the hands of his jailers, notably by Sueharu Kitamura (later convicted of war crimes). Due to malnutrition, by mid-1944 the over 6 feet (180 cm) tall Harris weighed only 120 pounds (54 kg) and had beriberi.[12] In September and November 1944, Harris was beaten severely, to the point of unconsciousness, by Kitamura.[13][14] According to fellow captive, Pappy Boyington, Harris was knocked down 20 times with a baseball bat for reading a newspaper stolen from the trash.[15] Harris was near death when he arrived at a POW camp near Ōmori in early 1945. Zamperini provided Harris with additional rations and he recovered.[16] William Harris was chosen to represent prisoners of war during the surrender of Japan, aboard USS Missouri on September 2, 1945.

After World War II, Harris remained in the Marines. He married Jeanne Lejeune Glennon in 1946 and had two daughters.[1]

He was recalled to active duty during the Korean War.[2] He was the commanding officer of Third Battalion, Seventh Marines, First Marine Division (Reinforced) in the Korean War. During the breakout in the Battle of Chosin Reservoir, his unit stayed behind as a rear guard to protect retreating forces. Despite heavy losses, Harris rallied his troops and personally went into harm’s way during the battle. Harris was last seen by American forces on December 7, 1950, walking and carrying two rifles on his shoulders. He was listed as missing in action, but after the war when former POWs had neither seen nor heard of him, Harris was declared to be dead. He was awarded the Navy Cross in 1951 for his actions at Chosin. Because of his penchant for escape and survival exhibited during World War II, his peers and family were reluctant to accept his death. A superior officer held on to his Navy Cross for a number of years, expecting to be able to give it to Harris personally.[17]

Remains thought to be his were eventually recovered. His family doubted the remains were his, and conclusive testing using DNA had not been attempted as of 2014.[1]

Awards

Navy Cross

For his leadership and heroism on December 7, 1950, Harris was awarded the Navy Cross.

The President of the United States of America takes pride in presenting the Navy Cross (Posthumously) to Lieutenant Colonel William Frederick Harris (MCSN: 0-5917), United States Marine Corps, for extraordinary heroism in connection with military operations against an armed enemy of the United Nations while serving as Commanding Officer of the Third Battalion, Seventh Marines, FIRST Marine Division (Reinforced), in action against enemy aggressor forces in the Republic of Korea the early morning of 7 December 1950. Directing his Battalion in affording flank protection for the regimental vehicle train and the first echelon of the division trains proceeding from Hagaru-ri to Koto-ri, Lieutenant Colonel Harris, despite numerous casualties suffered in the bitterly fought advance, promptly went into action when a vastly outnumbering, deeply entrenched hostile force suddenly attacked at point-blank range from commanding ground during the hours of darkness. With his column disposed on open, frozen terrain and in danger of being cut off from the convoy as the enemy laid down enfilade fire from a strong roadblock, he organized a group of men and personally led them in a bold attack to neutralize the position with heavy losses to the enemy, thereby enabling the convoy to move through the blockade. Consistently exposing himself to devastating hostile grenade, rifle and automatic weapons fire throughout repeated determined attempts by the enemy to break through, Lieutenant Colonel Harris fought gallantly with his men, offering words of encouragement and directing their heroic efforts in driving off the fanatic attackers. Stout-hearted and indomitable despite tremendous losses in dead and wounded, Lieutenant Colonel Harris, by his inspiring leadership, daring combat tactics and valiant devotion to duty, contributed to the successful accomplishment of a vital mission and upheld the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service.

— Board of Awards, Serial 1089, 17 October 1951[18]

Harris also received the Purple Heart, the Prisoner of War Medal, the Combat Action Ribbon, the Korean Service Medal, the United Nations Service Medal, the National Defense Service Medal, the Republic of Korea Presidential Unit Citation, the Korean War Service Medal and the World War II Victory Medal.[19]

 
Bronze star
Bronze star
1st Row Navy Cross Purple Heart
2nd Row Combat Action Ribbon Prisoner of War Medal Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal World War II Victory Medal
3rd Row National Defense Service Medal Korean Service Medal Republic of Korea Presidential Unit Citation United Nations Korea Medal
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All About Guns Allies This great Nation & Its People You have to be kidding, right!?!

Henry Ziegland The Unluckiest Guy in the World By Will Dabbs, MD

This is the only known surviving photograph of Henry Ziegland. He is standing on the right alongside his brother Jacob. Public domain.

Henry Ziegland was born in 1861 in Honey Grove, Texas. He came of age on the Ziegland family farm. Young Henry was a man of the earth. However, his formative years were chaotic.

Young Love

Henry inherited the family spread upon his parents’ deaths. In 1878, the young man began dating Miss Sharla Karis. Some historical accounts of this story refer to her as Maisie for some reason. The two young people were smitten.

In what was quite radical for the day, they shacked up together on Henry’s farm without the benefit of marriage. Three years later, they moved into Sharla’s old house, and Henry gifted the family land to his brother Jacob.

Five years after they met, Henry developed cold feet and walked out on Sharla. The poor girl was heartbroken. In a fit of depression, she took her own life. Sharla’s brother James was incensed by this.

His sister had been done wrong, and he was going to make things right. Arming himself, James tracked Henry down and found him tending his horses in the barn on his old family farm.

Prisons are not typically filled with psychopaths. They are populated by people who have poor impulse control. James Karis was not born a monster. He was simply angry. His judgment clouded by rage, James approached Henry and attempted to shoot him through the head.

For any normal person, taking a human life is an anxiety-producing event. James wobbled at the last minute, and his round simply grazed the cheek of his intended victim.

Henry realized what was happening and wisely feigned death. The errant bullet passed out of the barn and embedded itself in a nearby tree. James, believing his diabolical mission complete, then shot himself in the head and died. Henry regained his wits and went on to make a full recovery.

Wheelguns from the early 20th century were oftentimes not terribly powerful. However, they nonetheless yet remained quite dangerous.

What are the Odds?

Two decades later, Henry had moved on from the sordid events of that day in the barn. He still resided on the plot of family land that had figured so prominently in his courtship with poor Sharla Karis.

Eventually, however, the big tree outside the barn had outlived its usefulness. Henry enlisted the assistance of his brother Jacob to remove the offending broadleaf.

It was 1903, the same year the Wright brothers first took flight. It would be another 26 years before Andreas Stihl patented the first man-portable, gasoline-powered chainsaw.

Henry and Jacob chopped down the tree with an axe until they grew weary of it. That’s when the two boys decided to do the manly thing and seek out some dynamite.

Tools versus Toys

I mourn the passing of high explosives in respectable American society. There was a time not so long ago when you could buy explosives with little more than a driver’s license and an excuse.

Blowing stuff up is one of the few marketable skills I retain from the military. I once purchased a whole pile of Kinepak and det cord and used it to clear a dozen beaver dams off of my rural farm.

No kidding, pre-9/11, I bought the stuff out of the trunk of a man’s car in the parking lot of a rural church. Tragically, you can’t do that anymore. When folks complain about testosterone levels dropping precipitously among American males, that’s probably why.

Back in 1903, nobody thought anything about being able to walk out of the local hardware store with a crate of dynamite — cash and carry. You didn’t have to show a driver’s license because, back then, driver’s licenses weren’t a thing.

Nowadays, you have to show ID to buy duct tape at Wal-Mart (no kidding, the chronically exhausted clerk explained that some idiots were taking duct tape, rolling it into little cylinders and smoking it to get high. Holy snap …)

Technical Details

The effectiveness of an explosive is determined by how quickly it burns. Propellants like black powder have a combustion velocity of around 2,000 feet per second. By contrast, C4 high explosive conflagrates at 26,550 fps.

Traditional dynamite of the sort that Henry Ziegland might have used burns closer to 24,000 fps. This characteristic is called brisance. An explosive’s brisance reflects its capacity to shatter stuff.

Henry and Jacob packed the base of the tree with dynamite, primed everything, and lit the fuse. They then stepped back to admire their handiwork.

As anyone who has ever watched those horrifying Tannerite mishap videos on YouTube will attest, it is actually the stepping back a safe distance bit that is the most critical part of the enterprise.

Things Go All Pear-Shaped…

When the explosive charge went off, it duly shattered the thick tree trunk. Incredibly, James Karis’s old bullet, nestled inert within the tree for more than two decades, was energized a second time. The errant projectile flew through the air, struck Henry Ziegland in the left temple, and killed him on the spot.

It seemed that, 20 years after his murderous attack, Sharla’s brother James did indeed complete his mission. He ultimately killed Henry Ziegland, the world’s unluckiest man, from beyond the grave.

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All About Guns You have to be kidding, right!?!

Any ideas out there about what kind of rifle this is? Asking for a friend

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You have to be kidding, right!?!

The “Ass-ender” or Curtiss-Wright XP-55 Ascender in 1943

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STUPID Milsurp PRICES 🤑 The NEW Normal?

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All About Guns Well I thought it was funny! You have to be kidding, right!?!

A massive social faux pas

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A Victory! All About Guns

*Mint* Marlin 1894 in .25-20 A Turn-of-the-Century Treasure

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8 Forgotten Firearms That Made A Shocking Comeback!

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All About Guns You have to be kidding, right!?!

A Company of Gentlemen Adventurers by John Seerey-Lester

Three “gentlemen adventurers” gather ’round a fire, enjoying after-dinner drinks in my painting, Campfire Cohorts. I posed for the hunter on the left, Chuck for the hunter in the center and on the right.

Some of these men returned safely, but many others who sought the “white gold” … would die in the process.

When the ruthless King Leopold II of Belgium died on December 17,1909, so did the severe restrictions on hunting the King’s elephants in the Lado Enclave of the Congo Free State (now southeast Sudan and northwest Uganda).

King Leopold had ruled from an annexed throne and made the Lado Enclave his own personal domain to do with as he wished. After his death, the district became a no-man’s land until the Belgian and British Royals could decide who should control it.

This meant the area was open to hunters who could bag as much ivory as they could carry out. The only obstacle was the large number of loyal Belgian askaris who remained. They were a disorganized bunch of dangerous savages who did not hesitate to shoot on sight.

Soon the “ivory rush” was on and, despite the risks, hunters from all corners of British and German East Africa raced to take advantage of it.

Even Theodore Roosevelt made a point of going to the Enclave that December (1909) before completing his safari. Although the President went there for white rhino, not elephant, it was really to meet the poachers.

TR referred to the men who flocked there as “a hard-bit set,” but affectionately called them “a company of gentleman adventurers.” In reality, they were nothing more than poachers raiding an unadopted territory of its ivory resources before some authority could put a stop to it.

The situation in the Lado Enclave would last only about nine months, until the district became a province of the Anglo-Egyptian Sudan with the southern half being controlled by the British Colony of Uganda.

In the meantime, some of the most prominnt

 hunters of the time went to the Enclave in search of the big prize: huge herds of elephants, some containing as many as 500 animals, and bulls carrying ivory up to 200 pounds per side.

Some of these men returned safely, but many others who sought the “white gold,” particularly the lesser known and inexperienced, would die in the process. One such hunter was William Pickering, who literally lost his head doing it.

A well-known poacher and extremely good shot, Pickering was charged and killed by a bull elephant. It seems that he froze with his gun raised as the elephant bore down on him. The huge beast ripped off Pickering’s head and then stomped the man’s lifeless body into the ground.

For most hunters, however, their biggest challenge was outwitting the Belgians and getting themselves and their ivory safely out of the country. The British were sympathetic to the poachers, as it wasn’t “their” ivory, and they benefited from a 25 percent tax on any ivory brought into the British Protectorate from the Belgian side.

One ingenious deception was orchestrated by famed elephant hunter Bill Judd when trying to get across the Nile with a huge haul of ivory. Local natives told him that a Belgian patrol was hidden atop a hill watching the swamp he had to cross to reach the Nile. His only chance was to create a diversion.

He arranged to have some wooden poles whitewashed with the clay used on the inside of native huts and then divided his pagazi into two teams.

He went with the group carrying the white poles, which drew the patrol down the hill while the real ivory went ’round the other side of the hill and made it safely across the Nile. It’s ironic that it was an elephant that would end Judd’s life years later (see “Last Safari”).

Robert Foran hatched another ingenious ruse. This was the same Foran who acted as correspondent for the Associated Press, while unofficially covering the Roosevelt safari a year earlier (see “Codename ‘Rex’”).

The former policeman decided to sneak ivory over to the British side under the cover of a moonless night. He hid his heavily laden canoes along the bank on the British side, then at daybreak he and his men paddled the ivory, as though being chased, back to the Belgian side where they pretended it had been poached in the British territory.

Happy to get one over on the British, Belgian officials agreed to buy the ivory from Foran, who made a handsome profit on the deal, all tax-free.

There is no doubt the activities that took place during the Congo’s transition did much to enhance the frontier atmosphere of early East Africa and the legends it spawned.

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Blessed with some of the worst luck COOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Karma can be a bitch! Paint me surprised by this Some Scary thoughts Well I thought it was funny! You have to be kidding, right!?!

It would interesting to find out what Old Walter did to deserve this!

Walter Summerford

The Electrified Man
 By Will Dabbs, MD

This is Walter Summerford. This poor schmuck got struck by lightning four times, once after he was already dead.

It’s an old wives’ tale that lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place. Lightning is completely random. In the US alone, there are an average of 40 million lightning strikes per year. The odds of being hit by lightning in America are about one in a million in a given year. However, those numbers are, curiously, not consistent around the globe.

In the UK, there are only around 300,000 lightning strikes per annum. The United Kingdom is markedly smaller than the US, but its weather is way crappier. As a result, the odds of getting struck over there are closer to 1-in-15,300.

Lightning is some seriously nasty stuff. It’s basically just a big honking spark. Electrostatic energy builds up in the atmosphere and can discharge either from cloud to cloud or from a cloud into the ground. A typical lightning bolt runs about 50,000 degrees F, or five times the temperature of the surface of the sun. They pack millions of joules of energy. That stuff is undeniably pretty to look upon. However, you really don’t want to get any of it on you.

Around the globe, there are roughly 6,000 lightning strikes each and every minute. Nearly a quarter million people are struck by lightning every year. Roughly ten percent of those are killed.

On a certain level, those seem like pretty decent odds. If only one in every million Americans gets struck by lightning every year and, of those, nine out of ten live to tell the tale, that doesn’t sound so bad.

Those are indeed reassuring numbers, unless you happen to be Walter Summerford. Walter Summerford has been described as the unluckiest man in the universe. He was struck by lightning four times. One of those strikes was actually after he was already dead.

Background

Walter Summerford served as a British officer in World War I. In 1918, Major Summerford was riding a horse through a Belgian field when he caught a bolt of lightning.

This massive electrical shock rendered the poor man paralyzed from the waist down. However, he gradually recovered. With the war over and his recovery nearly complete, Summerford was demobilized and sent to Vancouver for further rehabilitation.

Six years later, in 1924, Summerford was enjoying a little quiet time out fishing by a river. A storm came up, so the man took refuge underneath a nearby tree. A bolt of lightning struck the tree and tracked down his body and into the ground. The strike left Summerford almost completely paralyzed on his right side.

After two long years, Summerford finally regained the use of his legs. The man was an inveterate outdoorsman and loved wandering about the wilderness hiking, hunting, and fishing.

However, in 1930, whilst taking a stroll in a public park, he was struck by lightning a third time. This bolt rendered him completely paralyzed. It was also markedly worse than the previous two. Summerford was destined to spend the rest of his natural life in a hospital bed.

Summerford’s physicians were amazed the man had survived this third blow. He fought valiantly for another two years before finally succumbing to the cumulative effects of these three lightning strikes in 1932.

As to whether he enjoyed some kind of unique body chemistry or had somehow offended his Maker, no one will ever know. Regardless, it was undoubtedly the cumulative effect of these three lightning strikes that ultimately did Walter Summerford in.

Four years after he was buried in a public cemetery in Vancouver, Canada, Walther Summerford’s gravestone was itself struck by lightning and split into pieces.

I’m not much into conspiracy theories myself. However, it is tough not to believe that there was something supernatural and spooky going on with that unfortunate guy.

The truly curious bit was that Walther Summerford was struck every six years starting in 1918, just like clockwork. Even after he died, when his six years were up, that’s when lightning struck his tombstone. The cyclical nature of the thing strains credulity, but his tale is well-documented.

The brother of one of the soldiers with whom I served was actually struck three times. Once the poor guy was in the shower. I can only imagine what that might do to somebody’s emotional well-being, not to mention your perspective on general hygiene.

My colleague was from rural Texas. He said that every time it got a little bit stormy out, his brother would retreat to the living room away from the television and read a book. Who can blame him?

Walter Summerford got struck by lightning once after he was already dead. This is his shattered tombstone. Image: Public domain.

Ruminations

As kind of an amateur science guy myself, I always gravitated toward basic physics. I can get my head around the way things move. However, chemistry and electricity always kind of made me itch. I struggled to visualize these disciplines, so they held little fascination for me.

However, I have long appreciated that electricity is best appreciated at a distance. If Walter Summerford has taught me anything, it is that I’d really sooner not get struck by lightning.