“There isn’t a trick in the racketeering bag that the military gang is blind to. It has its ’finger men’ to point out enemies, its ‘muscle men’ to destroy enemies, its ‘brain guys’ to plan war preparations, and a ‘Big Boss, Supra-nationalistic Capitalism. It may seem odd for me a military man, to adopt such a comparison. Truthfulness compels me to do so. I spent thirty-five years and four months in active service as a member of our country’s most agile military force, the Marine Corps.
“I served in all commissioned ranks from Second Lieutenant to Major General. During that period I spent most of my life being a high-class muscle man for big business, Wall Street and the Bankers. In short, I was a racketeer – a gangster for Capitalism.
“I suspected I was just part of the racket at the time. Now I am sure of it. Like most members of the military profession I never had an original thought until I left the service. My mental faculties remained in suspended animation while I obeyed the orders of the higher-ups. This is typical of anyone in the military.
“ I helped in the raping of half a dozen Central American republics for the benefit of Wall Street. The record of racketeering is long. I helped purify Nicaragua for the International Banking House of Brown Brothers . In China I helped Standard Oil.
“During those years I had, as the boys in the back room say, a swell racket. I was rewarded with honors, medals, and promotion. Looking back on it, I feel I could have given Al Capone a few hints. The best he could do was operate in three city districts: I operated on three continents”.
Major General Smedley D. Butler, USMC, as quoted in Money, December 1951.
11/13/04 “ICH” — If only we had a Smedley D. Butler clone in the Corps today, Bush and his gang of Nazi wanna-be’s would certainly have their hands full.
Sickened by the deterioration of the Marine Corps – indeed what looks to be the destruction of anything resembling honor and fidelity – I must now relegate myself to the past , where we at least had a semblance of our duties to ourselves and to our country. No more will I consider myself a part of today’s elite organization that began in Tun Tavern in 1775. I cannot lend my name to the sycophantic, mindless robots that now fill out our ranks. Marines who kill for fun. Who kill without question. Who kill for their false God, George Bush.
How did this come to pass? What has happened to us?
To see my kids – yeah, MY KIDS – in a video clip exulting over the killing of an unarmed civilian with overwhelming firepower was the end of my association with today’s Marine Corps. Brain-dead Marine Corps Corporals and Sergeants mugging to the BBC camera, shouting “right on”, as they observe an unarmed Iraqi they have turned into hamburger from a fortified position with overwhelming firepower.
Some warriors. Perhaps their God Bush will give them absolution, and then hey, it’s right back to the killing. Fundamentalist Christian rock before the battle, baptism in a water-filled dinghy by prostitutes wearing the cross of the chaplain. Our slain comrades? Let Bush take care of ‘em.
This is straight out of an acid-induced nightmare.
So my children go forth to slaughter innocent civilians in Fallujah. May your God Bush bury you in cheap metal caskets. Perhaps the shedding of your blood will partially wash away the everlasting stain and disgrace you have brought upon us. History will damn you. You will know everlasting shame.
And a final warning to young Marines – should you fire on American civilians in some future domestic insanity, you will be destroyed by your own kind – that’s right kids – your parents in the “Old Corps” will see to it that the likes of you will never plague the earth again.
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