BB v. Carrier Pt II

Ops briefed the skipper on their plan while Sam crawled into his rack and got some sleep. Ops didn’t mention it was Sam’s idea, though he did say the LDOs contributed to the plan. No sense in condemning the lot of them to op’s planning meetings – they’d just cheat the nuggets out of an opportunity to learn by making fools of themselves in front of Flags.

The skipper added a few details and tasked Ops with writing the op order, which meant the Ops Department JOs would be tested.

Monday morning, 0300, T-Time minus five, the New Jersey was steaming northeast at a leisurely 10 knots, EMCOM Charlie set, and her topside lit up like Times Square. They were close enough to the Ranger CTF that the cans’ protecting her were painting a nice picture of their search and fire control radars for the Jersey’s spooks. From the ecm gear, it was easy to see the cans were all clustered around Ranger, nice targets for a Surface Launched Cruise Missile with a low yield nuke to take them all out in one launch.

Though New Jersey could do it, so could the missile ships in her task force, and that really wouldn’t prove the BB’s worth. No, Ranger would suffer a more painful, personal fate.

At 0500, she had closed to 30 nautical miles, close enough that Ranger’s ECM guys would be wondering about the Furuno and Decca 2100 radars sweeping around among the Sperrys and Ratheons on the fishing boats. Those were passenger boat radars, and though it was a commercial waterway, there wasn’t usually any cruise ships steaming that close to the op area. They made a report to the CIC Watch Officer, and logged the contact.

But then, the Ranger’s spooks suddenly had bigger fish to fry. They were catching an SPS-48 3D F/C Radar off in the east. And moments later, an SPG lit off. Missile ships, the Orange force! Two minutes was all it took and they had them vectored.

“Combat, ECM, we have racket, vampire fire control radar bearing 275 degrees .”

“Combat, Aye”.

A second later the CIC watch officer threw back the curtain to the ECM room and strode inside. “You got the Orange Force already?” he said.

“Looks like they lit off their fire control stuff, probably just testing it. The exercise doesn’t start for another hour,” said the ECM operator.

“Yah, but what a fuck up. They tipped their hand and gave away their position. We’ll have fast movers on them before they know what’s hit them.”

He looked at the WRL10’s display as if he knew what it meant. “That’s them, right?” he said pointing at the racket coming from the south.

“Yes Sir, that’s them,” said the ECMO.

The CIC officer made his report to the bridge, along with his recommendation that they dispatch the cans to the south to intercept the BB and her brood before they got too close. It didn’t occur to any of them that the BB’s signature was missing from the racket burst.

New Jersey was now on the horizon, and the Ranger’s look out could see her lights.

The New Jersey’s look outs could see the Ranger, too. Aircraft carriers don’t care about darken ship, the flight deck is a dangerous enough place without having to stagger around in the dark. She looked like a Christmas tree.

Jersey’s CO was already the 05 level main battery control station. The guns were manned, and optical fire control solutions were being inputed to the Mark 1 Able fire control computer. She could fire now, and inflict sufficient damage to put Ranger out of commission for a month or two.

But the plan was humiliation, not annihilation. They were to get closer, much closer.

At 15 nautical miles, T minus 30, the New Jersey’s signal bridge reported a signal from Ranger. “Bridge, Sigs, Ranger’s Alfa-ing us”.

“Bridge, aye. Stand by.” Sam looked at Ops and smiled. “So they don’t recognize us. Ha!” he said.

Ops hit the bitch box switch and said, “Sigs, Bridge, ignore the Alfa.”

“Sigs, aye.”

“Let’s see how long it takes them to use the Bridge to Bridge”, said Ops.

“My money’s on 10 miles,” said Sam.

Ops turned his binoculars on the Ranger. He had to hand it to their signalmen, they kept up the Alfa interrogative tirelessly.

12 nautical miles out, the bitch box from CIC crackled to life. “Bridge, Combat, Ranger’s calling on Pri Ci. They are asking us to ID ourselves.”

“Combat, Bridge, you have them on ‘Ignore’ right?” asked ops.

“Combat, that’s a Roger. ECM says we’re being painted, but not any shooter radars.”

“Very well. Let me know if any fire control radars come up.”

He turned to Sam, “So far so good.”

9.5 nautical miles, the Bridge to Bridge’s Motorola broke squelch briefly, then crackled to life.

“Vessel to my west, this is the US warship, USS Ranger. Identify yourself”.

Sam laughed, “Oh hell, not a ‘US Warship’! What will we do?”

Ops waited a full minute, then keying the mic on the Bridge to Bridge, “USS Ranger, this is SS Azure Seas, cruise ship of the Princess Line returning to San Pedro from Mazatlan.”

“SS Azure Seas, this is Ranger. We are conducting a military exercise in this area and may be changing course without notice to conduct flight quarters. Be advised, you will be the burdened vessel.”

“Flight quarters? Will you be launching air craft?” asked Ops. “Could we watch?”

“This is Ranger, you may, but please maintain 10,000 yards off our beam, and no closer than 5,000 yards off our stern.

“Welcome. Ranger, out.”

“Azure Seas out, thank you, our passengers will be so excited!”

The Captain’s circuit crackled to life. ”Like taking candy from a baby. How long till first light?”

“About 20 minutes before they’re able to see the guns,” said Ops.

“OK, let’s take station 5,000 yards off their stern. It’s a natural blind spot for them. Two minutes before first light, bring her up to flank speed and make our run up her starboard side, between her and the can. At COMEX I want to be blowing holes in her side.”

Sam took the con so Ops could coordinate the missile ship strike without worrying about rules of the road. He gave ruder orders to the master helmsman to take them slowly to Ranger’s stern.

It was now five minutes before first light, and 40 minutes to COMEX. The 5MC from sigs crackled to life, “Bridge, Signal Bridge, Ranger’s showing meat balls, she’s turning into the wind and going to flight quarters.”

“She’s cheating – getting ready to launch a strike against the missile ships at COMEX,” said Sam.

Ops punched the Gun Fire Control button. “Captain, OOD, recommend we execute the strike. The missile ships are in position, solutions plotted, on my word they’ll illuminate Ranger with incoming SLCM racket. Should cause the screen force to sortie, giving us our shot.”

“Good call, Ops. Make it happen, but mind the plane guard can”.

“Roger.”

“Sam, order up flank.”

In rapid order, OPS ordered the missile ships to ‘fire’ their cruise missiles. The radar signal from the simulator was immediately interpreted on Ranger as an anti ship missile launch from North and West, two totally unexpected directions due to the misdirection signals sent out first by the tin cans.

The Ranger came up to flank speed as she turned into the wind. The plane guard destroyer, in position off Ranger’s stern to rescue luckless aviators who couldn’t catch the wire and splashed moved into position while the rest of the screen split to move against the Orange Force threat.

New Jersey was moving up on the Ranger. She’d killed the deceptive lighting pattern, and went to EMCON ALFA, complete emission silence. No one was paying her any mind, she was in Ranger’s and the plane guard’s blind spots, and any radar that painted her would show her to be a fishing boat or other small craft – her rounded shapes, an inadvertent byproduct of the artistic craftsmanship of WWII builders, and low freeboard, gave her a stealth advantage modern designers were still working to attain in modern warships.

At 40 knots New Jersey was bouncing like a pogo stick. She wasn’t used to such speed, and the main shaft bearings weren’t cooperating. She was going to wipe a bearing. The Chief Engineer, the Ops O, and the captain all hoped it would happen after she sunk the Ranger. “Eight burning, four turning”, a good day for the blackshoe navy.

As Ranger steamed past the plane guard, the secret was out, but it was too late. The plane guard wasn’t at GQ, and even if she had been, her 5 inch gun wouldn’t slow the New Jersey down, and New Jersey was so close to her that the plane guard’s missiles wouldn’t even arm before striking the Jersey. The Ranger suspended flight quarters and took an evasive turn, but Jersey was on her like a cheetah on an antelope.

Try as she might, Ranger couldn’t shake the Jersey. New Jesey was too fast and too maneuverable com[ared to the lumbering carrier. The Jersey slowly came along Ranger’ s port side, just so the whole flight deck crew could see. Her nine 16 inch guns were aligned to her starboard and level with Ranger’s waterline. As Pri Ci announced, “Now commence FLEETEX 2-87” Ranger’s bridge to bridge was receiving a message from the “SS Azure Seas”, “Thank you for your hospitality, Ranger. Please enjoy your break from the action. Azure Seas out”. The Jersey gunners fired air slugs at Ranger for emphasis while the New Jersey’s signal bridge was flashing “Golf, Golf, Golf, Golf, Golf, Golf, Golf, Golf, Golf” signifying that New Jersey had fired her nine 16” guns into Ranger’s hull, a decidedly fatal attack as judged by CINCPACFLEET’s referees.

POSTEX:

New Jersey had ended the exercise before it started, and while it was a brilliant tactical victory, it wasn’t appreciated. The whole point of the exercise was to test Ranger and her battle group, not NJ.

CINCPAC sent New Jersey back to the Southern Edge of the SOCAL OPAREA, and reset the exercise clock.

Ranger had her CAP on station, and the airborn E-2C Hawkeyes were patrolling the outer perimeter of her layered defense zone. The screening cans were also dispersed, spreading the task force from horizon to horizon per the nuclear defense plan.

Of course, Ranger passed her ORE, with lessons learned. In the restarted exercise, the Orange Force was never a real threat. Though they attacked from missile strike distances, their positions had been noted and the minute they ‘launched’, Standard missiles and Sea Sparrow missiles knocked the incoming SLCMs out of the sky, and F/A 18s roared in on the tin cans and the BB pickleing Hellfire Missiles and LGBs, ‘sinking’ them repeatedly.

New Jersey was never again given an Orange Force role.

But she did get to participate in another carrier battle group’s ORE, as part of the battle group, with interesting results.

Next episode.

BB v. Carrier Pt I

Lt Barlow needed a nap, just a short one would do. Sailors develop the ability to refresh themselves from the barest bit of shuteye from years of 25 hour days, three section watches, and the occasional trip ashore for liberty in an exotic port. He’d stood his four hour watch, done his Div O admin work, counseled his wayward sailors, now needed to sleep, just enough to get at least one REM cycle.

But the nap’d have to wait. The Captain had called an AOM for 1300. Some NAVEX was no doubt in the battleship’s future and Charlie Oscar would be giving them the straight scoop.

Sam dragged himself up to the wardroom for a cup of coffee. It was like walking around with wet cement hanging from every square inch of his body. And sand scratching his eyes. He’d go to sleep immediately if he could find a spot to crash, but it would be wrong to say he was sleepy. Bone weariness never feels sleepy.

At 1302, the XO announced “All rise” as the CO and MPOC strode into the wardroom. The assembled officers all rose in unison and stood at attention.

“As you were, Gents”, said the Captain. They all sat as the MPOC assumed parade rest at the Skipper’s left.

After some obligatory jokes about wardroom chow and the XO’s jogging skills – how could someone so slow pass the PFT? - the Captain got down to business.

“Gentlemen, we have a unique opportunity to highlight the Jersey’s capability. We have been assigned to sortie against the USS Ranger Battle Group as Orange Force flag. We’ll have two missile ships with us.

“It’s the Carrier Battle Group’s ORE for deployment, and while I have the utmost respect for the Task Group Commander, and wish him all the best, I am not about to let some hot jock in an F18 send us to the time out box.

“We are to ComEx is 0800 Monday morning and I want to be on station and ready to attack them at zero plus one. So we will go EMCOM Alpha at midnight tonight and steam to the eastern edge of the SOCAL Op area. I expect an attack plan by 0800 from each department. Be creative gents. They have rules, beyond not using live rounds, we do not.

“I have tasked the cans’ SOPA to work up an attack plan and present it at 1600 here. Ops O is coordinating our plan, the cans’ attack will be tangential to our own.

“They won’t take us lightly again. We’ll get together again at 2000.”

The XO rose and barked another, “Attention on Deck”. MPOC snapped to attention as the officers rose again. The CO and MPOC left the wardroom.

The XO rose and, said, “OK, Ops, bring me your plan by 1930.” He issued the usual edicts about beans, bullets, and gas and dismissed the officers, who all waited for their department heads to tell them to muster in their offices.

Lt Barlow didn’t need to be told. He took his coffee and headed up to the Ops office, as if his getting there first would somehow shorten the meeting.

The other officers in the Ops department straggled in, followed by the Ops O. The discussed the Ranger’s order of battle, the layered defense, the wicked Standard defense missile, the NATO Sea Sparrow, and the Marine Detachment’s little surprises, dual 5”50 mounts, 20mm AA guns, and their fifties. It wasn’t gonna be easy.

The Real Live Officers who gone to knife and fork school, not to mention some of America’s better institutions of higher education discussed attack plans, feints, high speed hit and runs, over the horizon SLCM attacks, sacrificing the small boys. Each had a favored plan and each lobbied hard to get his approved.

Sam and the other LDOs weren’t expected to participate, they were just overpaid enlisted pukes in the eyes of the other RLO JOs. But Sam needed his sleep, especially since he’d be the GQ JOOD for the whole attack. It moved him to speak.

“I gotta idea Ops. Lets dress this lady up and take her to a dance.”

The ops office fell silent, for an instant. “What the hell kind of plan is that?” asked the Ops O.

“Well, we’re at EMCOM Alpha right? Nothing to id us as a combatant, right? Why not go to EMCOM Charlie, rig deceptive lighting for a cruise ship, and sail right up on her before first light? As they are eating chow and briefing their flight crews, we come to flank speed and take out with guns. The main battery will put her to the bottom in a New York Second.”

The CIC officer said, “What about the missile ships? What do we do with them?”

Wily Strong, the ECM Officer, another LDO, said, “Missiles are high tech. They are countered with high tech. Doncha think the airdales will be looking hard for them? We can send them to the Southern edge of the OpArea while we steam West from the Southern edge. Let ‘em make some noise, the Wild Weasels will pick em up and distract them while we saunter on up on them. If their skippers are good, they can evade long enough for us to sneak up on the carrier.”

All the JOs looked at Ops. He was staring hard at Sam and Willy. There was a long silence before he said, “I like it.

“OK, Willy, get the lighting plan set up. Weather, get me a weather forecast for east and south OP Area. A Ops, gen up an opord for the cans to go ISE and attack Blue at will.

“Sam.

“You look like shit. Get some sleep. You and I are going to have a long day.”

Redeemer v. Meglomaniac

Both Democrat candidates (I'm excluding the Democrat running as a Republican) think they are due the Presidency as opposed to wanting to serve.

JWR has a piece by Caroline Glick that runs it down nicely. Obama is just as arrogant and demanding as Sir Hillary.

http://www.jewishworldreview.com/0408/glick042208.php3

Slacker

Hey, it's political junkie nirvana time, and the next chapter of BB Tales is still marinating between my head and the keyboard. It's going to be a fictionalized account of a BB attack on a carrier battle group, one that actually happened (Blue forces v. Orange forces). Oh what fun we had....

Jewish Odysseus: TWO ARAB WRITERS WITH MORE BRAINS THAN THE ENTIRE LAMESTREAM MEDIA...

Jewish Odysseus: TWO ARAB WRITERS WITH MORE BRAINS THAN THE ENTIRE LAMESTREAM MEDIA...

Big Stick II

During WWII, the Viet Minh built fortified tunnels on a small island off the coast of Viet Nam. They used it to shell Japanese ships. The VC used it to shell navy ships cutting donut holes in the ocean on North SAR and PIRAZ station. It was an annoyance, rather like a mosquito buzzing around. But, American airmen needed the advanced warning provided by the PIRAZ destroyer and the SAR assets at North SAR.

Not all missions north were successful, if the had been, the ordinance we dropped on NVN would have bombed them back to the stone age. When weather or some other mission cancelling event stopped an aircraft from dropping its load on target, they’d bring it back with them. That meant bombing Flipper or the island.

Tons of ordinance would be unloaded on the island.

To no avail.

Then one day, the VC fired on the New Jersey. Suffice it to say, that put an end to that island as a source of annoyance to the navy.

Another argument for the value of a capital ship that carries a big stick.

And tough luck for Flipper.

Racist America

From Larry Elder's piece in today's Town Hall:

In 1911, former slave Booker T. Washington prophetically wrote about "black leaders" like Cleaver, Jackson and Sharpton: "There is (a) class of colored people who make a business of keeping the troubles, the wrongs, and the hardships of the Negro race before the public. Having learned that they are able to make a living out of their troubles, they have grown into the settled habit of advertising their wrongs -- partly because they want sympathy and partly because it pays. Some of these people do not want the Negro to lose his grievances, because they do not want to lose their jobs. … There is a certain class of race-problem solvers who don't want the patient to get well, because as long as the disease holds out they have not only an easy means of making a living, but also an easy medium through which to make themselves prominent before the public."

The Big Dog

For the projection of power ashore in a littoral conflict, nothing beats naval air. It gets there fast, and pounds the hell out of the enemy before he knows what hit him, and today’s navy has sophisticated electronics packages that puts ordinance right on target and causes SAMs to bite the hand that fed them.

Nice.

But what if your enemy is, say, a mujahedeen who don’t have a SAM system, and couldn’t use it if he did? Naval air still rules the battlefield, but a fifty cal machine gun shooting straight up into the air will rip the belly right out of a F/A 18 coming in hot to lay down ordinance in support of besieged grunts.

A 16” shell, on the other hand, is impervious to a puny 50 cal round. Even if it did somehow succumb to a low tech weapon, it wouldn’t have a pilot punching out to be caught by an enemy who would use him for political and propaganda purposes. Nor would it give up secrets like a downed Predator.

In political parlance, a 16” shell is as PC as you can get. It don’t care who it blows up, and it ain’t gonna roll on its brothers if it falls into the wrong hands.

Viet Nam, a political war as much as anything else. The generals and admirals running things all gambled on their service being the one that could whip the enemy better than any other service. In the navy, the conventional forces had little to impact. Sure, the brown water navy was there. Swifts and PBRs and LCUs, mikes and zippos all did their part, but there were no naval battles to win, no dramas on the high seas to write home about. That’s not to say that the SEALS didn’t do their part, but SEALS terrorizing some terrorist VC didn’t win big dollars in the defense budget sweepstakes.

Enter the New Jersey. Able to reach 90% of targets in North and South Viet Nam without coming within range of a shore battery, it was a beautiful thing in the surface navy’s thinking.

But not so fast. Airdales (only half a word in the black shoe world – brothers you know what I mean) were running the show.

New Jersey deployed to Viet Nam to support combat operations. North Viet Nam was off limits. A 16” round isn’t Precision Guided Ordinance. The first few rounds are fairly accurate, but as the guns heat, the accuracy gets worse. You could aim at the Hanoi Power Plant and take out a hospital, school, or POW camp. (The brass hats wouldn’t fund radar guided RAP rounds – no, they’d rather risk a multimillion dollar A-6 and a pilot who cost Uncle Sugar untold sums to train – but who am I to tell them what to do?) So NJ found herself supporting Operation Market Basket, gunfire support for troops under attack.

She slipped into the op area unannounced.

A FAC called for a fire mission from a small boy off the coast. A platoon of Marines was under attack from a mortar squad. The FAC had the mortar squad’s coordinates.

“Alfa Whiskey, this is Tango Golf two six. I have a fire mission. Coordinates Bravo Bravo Two Eight, Xray niner eight Foxrot. Over”

On Alfa Whiskey, the bridge to bridge circuit snapped, “Alfa Whiskey, this is Big Dog we’ll take this mission”. Then on the fire support circuit, “Tango Golf, Bravo Delta, roger. Confirm coordinates ‘Bravo Bravo Two Eight, Xray niner eight Foxrot’”.

“Bravo Bravo Two Eight, Xray niner eight Foxrot, roger. Fire one salvo for effect.”

“Bravo Delta, roger salvo.”

Well, a salvo from a Battleship is an entirely different thing than a salvo from a small boy with some 5”/38s.

Nine 16” HE rounds whistled over the small boy’s head from 20 miles away. They impacted the target area with such force that the mortar squad’s position was reduced to a smoking hole. The pressure from the impact spun the FAC’s plane around. He examined the effect of the navy’s effort once he reoriented himself for just a minute.

“Jesus Christ! What did you use? Target destroyed”, the FAC reported in a high pitched, girlish scream.

“Bravo Delta, Target destroyed. Roger, out”

Who really needs Naval Air in a littoral war?

Tomorrow, another victory for BB power over air power.

“Fire Power For Victory”.

Battleship Tales

It's been said that a soldier with fixed bayonet has a certain calming effect on belligerents. Well, the same can be said for a capital ship sitting at anchor in a belligerent nation's harbor.

An aircraft carrier with all those airplanes looks bad, but what's it going to do sitting there? It's got to go to sea, turn into the wind, and launch the sortie, which, a flotilla of fishing boats can cause a CANC EX without too much trouble.

A Battleship is another thing entirely. Even the duty dog catcher can envision that serenely anchored bad boy turning those three turrets with the nine 16" guns in his direction and letting loose with a salvo of baby killer sabots or HE rounds that would ruin his and his town's day for an eon or two.

A battleship has a certain calming effect on petty despots when it is detected off said depot's coast.

The Iowa class BBs were built to take a direct hit from the Japanese navy's biggest guns, 18 inchers on the Yamato which fired one ton shells. The class A armor in the Iowas' 'citadel' was 18" thick, and if the bridge got blown away, the CHENG could run the ship the ship from main control.

While the Yamato never came up against an Iowa class BB, it's worth mentioning that US Naval Air sent her to the bottom, dooming perhaps, all the big capital ships as effective surface combatants.

Or did it?

Stay tuned. Just as a note, the Jersey took a direct hit on her number one turret from a shore battery during her tour off Korea. While the round's shrapnel killed one of the crewmen, the damage to the ship was cleaned up during evening sweepers.

Liberals We Can't Stand

Look who's on the list:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hWvtlut8izs

The Real BHO

Another American speaking truth to the racists:

Ken Blackwell

(Image from nogw.com)

By Ken Blackwell, 2-14-08, Opinion, NY Sun, here.

"Civilizational War is real, even if political leaders and polite pundrity must call it by another name," Robert Kaplan, here .

It's an amazing time to be alive in America. We're in a year of firsts in this presidential election: the first viable woman candidate; the first viable African-American candidate; and, a candidate who is the first front running freedom fighter over 70. The next president of America will be a first.

We won't truly be in an election of firsts, however, until we judge every candidate by where they stand. We won't arrive where we should be until we no longer talk about skin color or gender. Now that Barack Obama steps to the front of the Democratic field, we need to stop talking about his race, and start talking about his policies and his politics..

It's time America takes a closer and deeper look at Obama.

Some pundits are calling him the next John F. Kennedy. He's not. He's the next George McGovern. And it's time people learned the facts.

Because the truth is that Mr. Obama is the single most liberal senator in the entire U.S. Senate. He is more liberal than Ted Kennedy, Bernie Sanders, or Mrs. Clinton.

So why is Obama not behind in the polls?

Why? Because the press has dealt with him as if he were in a beauty pageant. Mr. Obama talks about getting past party, getting past red and blue, to lead the United States of America. But let's look at the more defined strokes of who he is underneath this superficial "beauty."

Then what about the issues? Like security?

Start with national security, since the president's most important duties are as commander-in-chief. Over the summer, Mr. Obama talked about invading Pakistan, a nation armed with nuclear weapons; meeting without preconditions with Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, who vows to destroy Israel and create another Holocaust; and Kim Jong II, who is murdering and starving his people, but emphasized that the nuclear option was off the table against terrorists - something no president has ever taken off the table since we created nuclear weapons in the 1940s.

Even Democrats who have worked in national security condemned all of those remarks. Mr. Obama is a foreign-policy novice who would put our national security at risk.

Then what about economic policy?

Next, consider economic policy. For all its faults, our health care system is the strongest in the world. And free trade agreements, created by Bill Clinton as well as President Bush, have made more goods more affordable so that even people of modest means can live a life that no one imagined a generation ago. Yet Mr. Obama promises to raise taxes on "the rich." How to fix Social Security? Raise taxes.

How to fix Medicare? Raise taxes. Prescription drugs? Raise taxes. Free college? Raise taxes. Socialize medicine? Raise taxes. His solution to everything is to have government take it over. Big Brother on steroids, funded by your paycheck.

What about social issues?

Mr. Obama had the audacity to open a stadium ra lly by saying, "All praise and glory to God!" but says that Christian leaders speaking for life and marriage have "hijacked" - hijacked - Christianity. He is pro-partial birth abortion, and promises to appoint Supreme Court justices who will rule any restriction on it unconstitutional. He espouses the abortion views of Margaret Sanger, one of the early advocates of racial cleansing. His spiritual leaders endorse homosexual marriage, and he is moving in that direction.

In Illinois, he refused to vote against a statewide ban - ban - on all handguns in the state. These are radical left, Hollywood, and San Francisco values, not Middle America values.

Look beyond the eloquence and veneer to the issues.

Mr. Obama could win if people don't start looking behind his veneer and flowery speeches. His vision of "bringing America together" means saying that those who disagree with his agenda for America are hijackers or warmongers. Uniting the country means adopting his liberal agenda and abandoning any conflicting beliefs.

But right now everyone is talking about how eloquent a speaker he is and - yes - they're talking about his race. Those should never be the factors on which we base our choice for president. Mr. Obama's radical agenda sets him far outside the American mainstream, to the left of Mrs. Clinton.

It's time to talk about the real Barack Obama. In an election of firsts, let's first make sure we elect the person who is qualified to be our president in a nuclear age during a global civilizational war.

Ken Blackwell was formerly Secretary of State of Ohio, and unsuccessfully ran for Ohio Governor in 2006. He was the first black candidate for governor in Ohio.

Dusty Reid: Redefining Stupid

Please watch this video. This is a leader in the Democrat party.

http://www.freeliberal.com/blog/archives/003277.php

Campaign Ad

Over on the Taxman blog there is this very slick video. It's done by the Dems!

Ouch!