by Patrick Lang
| Col. Patrick W. Lang (Ret.), a highly decorated retired senior officer of U.S. Military Intelligence and U.S. Army Special Forces, served as “Defense Intelligence Officer for the Middle East, South Asia and Terrorism” for the Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) and was later the first Director of the Defense Humint Service. Col. Lang was the first Professor of the Arabic Language at the United States Military Academy at West Point. For his service in the DIA, he was awarded the “Presidential Rank of Distinguished Executive.” He is a frequent commentator on television and radio, including PBS’s Newshour, and most recently on MSNBC’s Hardball and NPR’s “All Things Considered.” His CV and blog are linked below the fold. |
There are going to be some new categories on this blog (Sic Semper Tyrannis 2005). Film (reviews), prose and poetry will be among them.
I am lucky enough to know a lot of gifted people and have asked them to contribute their gifts to this site.
This story is the work of Brigadier General Alan Farrell who is a distinguished professor of French at my alma mater [West Point]. Dr. Farrell served as a sergeant in USMACVSOG in Vietnam after receiving his doctorate from the Sorbonne. His mastery of the Montagnard French spoken by the hill people of SE Asia is remarkable.
I am not Major Greunwald.
Download The Major Won the Croix de Guerre. (16 pages, PDF format). An excerpt:
“Putain dgieu de merde de bordel de dgieu de merde de bordel de dgieu de merde de merde et merde!”
Nhiao-A, the montagnard platoon sergeant, lets loose his best string of genuine strung-together French invective, then punctuates it with a Vietnamese: “dix mille fois!”
This singing indictment of divine justice, Nhiao has picked up from some tirailleur colonial in the 50’s: the savory art of expletive, wherein all the dark terror and somber joy of a soldier’s life commingle brutally: God, shit, whore. … Continued below:
“Nomdedgieu,” he spits once again, though the “god” whose “name” he thus invokes he knows not at all. What he does know is that the bou mis, the two Big Dumb Americans, have buried a deuce-and-a-half up to its hubs in the muddy track that snakes from the ‘Yard Camp down to the training range. Steinhagen, my buddy, sits in the cab, mashing remorselessly on the accelerator and frantically slamming gears in and out, reciting the same litany as Nhiao but in Anglo-Saxon: “Goddam it, you whore! …shit!” The big truck, all six drive wheels engaged, shudders, sidles, lurches, slings fetid black mud in all directions, but sticks fast in her syrupy wallow. …
Personal Blog: Sic Semper Tyrannis 2005 || Bio || CV
Recommended Books || More BooTrib <a href="Posts
Novel: The Butcher’s Cleaver (download free by chapter, PDF format)
“Drinking the Kool-Aid,” Middle East Policy Council Journal, Vol. XI, Summer 2004, No. 2
