The people's voice of reason

Tribute to Hans and More Leftist Twaddle

With the Messerschmitt's left wingtip pointed vertically toward the bluish-green bay below, the hapless Hurricane fighter stands virtually motionless in front of the young Berliner's windscreen. Through the heavy metal framed canopy of the Messerschmitt Bf-109F-4, the brown and tan camouflaged British Hurricane with its yellow, blue, white, and red centered cockade remains clearly recognizable against the crystal blue, cloudless North African sky. Pulling back on the stick, the G-forces increase as the gut-wrenching turn tightens. The German pilot's body feels as though several hundred extra pounds have been saddled around him as the high-G turn presses his body firmly into his seat. From underneath his brown leather and mesh flight helmet, beads of sweat roll down the German's face, burning his eyes as they remain open and fixed on the revi-optical gun sight. 4G, 4.5G, 5G. The strain increases and the young man's arm starts to weaken and grow fatigued. Tired, numb, and aching from a mission already full of air combat, there are no distractions allowed; he mustn't let his quarry get away.

A quick, cursory look inside and a firm but positive input with right rudder, Hans-Joachim Marseille, Jochen, as he is known by his friends, corrects the aircraft's slight skid. Throttle full forward and maximum power, more pull on the stick and the Messerschmitt gains rapidly on the British fighter.

The Bf-109 shudders as the airspeed rapidly bleeds off from 300 to 140 knots. The tan Messerschmitt with the sky-blue underside responds like the thoroughbred she is. Physics demands the Messerschmitt's nose to drop as both the airspeed and corresponding lift falls away. Defying this law of nature, Jochen aggressively applies full top rudder with his heavy, fleece lined leather flying boot and the 109 now hangs precariously between stall and slow flight. A slight indication of stall warning and between 140 and 130 knots, a large metallic clang momentarily distracts the young German as the leading-edge slats automatically slam into the extended position. This unique aeronautical feature simultaneously decreases stall speed as well as the British pilot's chances of survival.

Like an artist molding clay to create the perfect masterpiece, the 22-year-old German works his aircraft as an extension of his own body. Sweat pours down his back underneath his black leather flight jacket. There is a definite chill in the cockpit at this altitude made even more noticeable by the cool winter sun hanging listlessly in the Libyan sky. The webbed shoulder harnesses bite into his neck and stings as the sweat creeps into the raw and irritated skin. He is suddenly aware of the additional weight of the flight helmet on his head as the crushing forces of high-G maneuvering continue to take hold of his thin 130-pound body. These minor distractions, however, no longer affect the German ace. He has been here dozens of times before and the only thing that now matters is another victory.

Looking over his left shoulder, the RAF pilot sees the Messerschmitt with white wing tips perched ominously at his seven o’clock position. The white propeller spinner housing the deadly 20 mm cannon and the twin 7.9 mm machine guns on the nose slowly pulls ahead into perfect proper firing position. Fear grips the British pilot for he realizes it is no rookie pilot on his tail. Every evasive maneuver attempted has been flawlessly countered by the German who at the same time has been able to close the distance between the two adversaries with every turn. This is definitely an expert he is fighting today!

As Jochen's Messerschmitt closes in, the Hurricane disappears beneath the nose of the German warbird. Jochen cocks his head slightly to the left and bites down on his lower lip. His large green eyes see only the space in time where he calculates his deadly ordinance and the enemy plane will meet. With his fate evidently sealed, the ruddy faced Englishman, paralyzed with fear, takes a final look over his left shoulder and into eternity as the Messerschmitt opens fire.

Marseille’s brown leather gloved index finger closes firmly around the red firing trigger and the control column shakes violently in his right hand. The cockpit immediately fills with the acrid smell of cordite as more than thirty pounds of steel per second of 7.9 mm machine gun and 20 mm cannon shells hurtle toward the Hurricane in beautiful yellow colored tracer arcs. A quick two-second burst and the German rolls his aircraft inverted and dives down and away, certain his aim was true.

One thousand feet above the melee, the young Berliner's wingman, Reiner Poettgen, a.k.a the Flying Adding Machine, watches the action in awe and a certain amount of disbelief. As if by magical forces guiding Marseille's ammunition, the shells and the Hurricane meet in deadly unison. With perfect timing and precision accuracy, the bullets and cannon shells first strike the Hurricane's engine with fantastic, dazzling sparks, immediately rendering it a furnace of uncontrollable fire. Angry orange and red tongues of flame lap hungrily from the engine, belching sickening black and gray smoke extending more than 100 feet behind the stricken airplane. The damage, just beginning, gets worse as the shells quickly walk their way back along the fuselage to the cockpit. The destruction there is swift and complete, reducing the once proud British fighter pilot to a bloody, lifeless form inside the burning cockpit of his winged tomb.

"Horrido, Jochen!!", exclaims his wingman. "Victory!!"

"Hast du den aufschlag gesehen?" "Did you see them crash?"

"Jawohl, Jochen!" "Confirmed!"

Within seconds, the 7500-pound Hurricane, a sheet of flaming metal, thunders vertically into the ocean near the Libyan harbor of Tobruk. As German fighter ace Hans-Joachim Marseille turns for home, a total of four, oily black spills are left fouling the otherwise beautiful ocean surface, marking the graves of four British fighter pilots that will be mourned by family and squadron members alike yet celebrated as four more victory marks on the rudder of the German fighter ace known throughout Germany as "The Star of Africa," who is to become the most successful of all German fighter pilots in the North African theater and against the Western allies in WWII.

75 Years ago, 30 September 1942, my childhood hero, yeah, okay, still to this day a young man I have studied and admired for 40+ years, died in Egypt. In my not-so humble opinion, regardless of the side he fought for, Hans-Joachim Marseille, a 22-year-old Berliner, was the greatest, not highest scoring, but greatest fighter pilot to ever strap on an airplane. Yeah, he was German and no he was not a Nazi. Not even close. My book clearly proves this. And no, I am still not a Nazi. Black dude, remember? The first part above is some hopefully semi-creative writing about one of his aerial combats while below is a short synopsis of his flying career. I was in Seattle at the Museum of Flight one day, and they had a short bio of Marseille hanging on the wall. I read it and thought, “No, no, nope, uh uh, nope, didn’t happen.” I found the curator and brought him over to the wall and showed him the errors. He asked how I knew what I said was true and I told him I authored the book on Marseille that was sitting in their gift shop. I then asked him if I could rewrite the bio, no charge. He agreed and below is what is featured in the Seattle Museum of Flight today. Cheers, Jochen!!


After an unremarkable combat start during the Battle of Britain where Marseille shot down seven British fighters to the loss of four of his own Messerschmitts, the young Berliner was “sent packing” from his squadron commanded by Johannes Steinhoff and transferred to Jagdgeschwader 27, destined for North Africa.

Marseille, known as “Jochen” by his friends, arrived in Libya on 21 April 1942 with an extended list of military infractions and reports about his uncommon behavior. With his long hair and a penchant for listening to outlawed American Jazz music, Marseille quickly became the source of consternation from several squadron members. Recognizing his young protégée’s unique talents, his commander, then Captain Edu Neumann, took the young and impetuous Marseille under his wing and carefully molded arguably the greatest combat pilot in history.

During a brief 18-month period, Hans-Joachim Marseille cut a swath through the North African skies. Blessed with exceptional eyesight, Marseille blended his outstanding aerobatic abilities, tactical knowledge and marksmanship to make his Messerschmitt Me-109 Yellow 14 the most feared aircraft in the theater. In 382 combat sorties, Marseille shot down 151 Allied aircraft. Even more remarkable is 138 of his 151 victories were multiple kills. No less than 45 times, Marseille shot down 2 or more aircraft on one sortie. 7 times he downed 3 aircraft, 10 times he downed 4, twice he downed 5 aircraft and once each he downed 6, 7 and 8 aircraft on a single sortie. On sorties where he engaged the enemy and downed an aircraft, he averaged 2.6 kills per sortie. During the last month of his life Marseille downed 57 aircraft, 17 of those on 1 September 1942.


B. More Leftist Twaddle and Such Nonsense

I exhort therefore, first of all, that supplications, prayers, intercessions, thanksgivings, be made for all men; for kings and all that are in high place; that we may lead a tranquil and quiet life in all godliness and dignity.

1 Tim 2:1-2 (ASV)

For those of you who do not know, or more specifically do not care, television’s “biggest night,” the Emmys, aired this past Sunday night. Hosted by Stephen Colbert, I honestly would rather have shoved flaming meat skewers through my eyeballs than to sit down and watch a group of self-important millionaires pat each other on the back, give one another trophies and of course disrespect not only our president, our country but all of us who actually have brains and use them daily. I did read through several news agencies that discussed the shame also known as the Emmys and I am even more glad I did not watch it. According to the ratings, not many people in the country did either. Supposedly the ratings were the lowest in years. Hmmmm. Well, on the following website, the author lists the “Top 10 Most Tedious Left-Wing Moments.” Let me go through just a few.

1. The always classy Alec Baldwin, won an Emmy for his portrayals of President Trump on Saturday Night Live. During his acceptance speech, he said he and his wife had three kids in three years, but when he began portraying Trump on SNL, the "orange wig" that he wore was an effective “birth control” measure. Pretty dignified and classy, huh?

2. During comedian Kate McKinnon’s acceptance speech, she actually thanked Mrs. Clinton for her “grace and grit” in her election loss. You mean like blaming everybody else for her lying (perjury), illegal (handling of classified data) and boorish (blame game,) behavior?

3. Actress Lily Tomlin, stated that, “We still refused to be controlled by a sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigot.” Really? Wow. My F-18 copilot and I were talking the other day about cool stuff like guns, 2nd Amendment and free speech when one of our Los Angeles based flight attendants stepped into the cockpit. (Yes we were still on the ground). You can imagine the conversation we had. To her credit, she took the beat down well and did not resort to name calling and actually listened to what we said. About 5 times during the conversation, she said, “I didn’t know that.” I told her that if she limited her information to MSNBC, she never would.

During one exchange, she said that Trump was a racist. My copilot and I had just had that same conversation the day before at dinner. Fish in a barrel. He asked her to tell him one racist thing trump said. Crickets. Come on, just one racist thing. Crickets getting louder.

Look people, if wanting to build a wall to help protect the sovereign borders of our country makes me a racist, then I will wear that stamp. Look, if all these hypocritical, leftist millionaires live in houses surrounded by fences to keep people out, why is that not acceptable for the country. Take your walls down first and let the homeless move into your house with your family. Then we’ll talk. If exercising my 2nd Amendment Right makes me a “black, hillbilly,” (Is there such a thing?), then I will wear that stamp too. If thinking that illegals do not deserve Medicare, free school, Social Security and blanket amnesty makes me a bigot, I can live with that. I really can. But when looking in the mirror, can the other side live with their ignorance and stupidity?

As for Tomlin’s lying assessment, take a look at the following pages for President Obama. He was certainly no honest Abe. In the world of intellectual honesty, however, not all of these claims about our previous President are true while many are.

1. Donald Glover, rapper/actor/comedian, actually said, “I want to thank Trump for making black people number one on the most oppressed list. He's the reason I'm probably up here.” Really?

The list goes on and on. Colbert accused Trump of treason, defined as I have no idea. He also suggested that President Trump was a “morally compromised antihero.” Finally, while continually embarrassing themselves on the world stage by showing everyone how politically and socially ignorant they are, one Issa Rae, creator and star of HBO’s “Insecure,” was asked who she was rooting for at the Emmy Awards when she unabashedly said, “I’m rooting for everybody black. I am.” Can you imagine what would have happened if they asked Matt Damon the same question and he said he was only rooting for white people? Come on, people. Give it a rest.

As I said before, I am glad I didn’t watch any of this garbage. And I never will. In the immortal words of Leonard’s Losers (showing my age), “Tonight’s loser, in a landslide, the Emmy’s. Get me outta here, Percy.”

C. Equifax Data Breech – This breech has the potential to affect almost every adult in the United States, 400,000 in the U.K. and another 100,000 in Canada. On the news today, three top Equifax executives sold stock prior to the announcement (of their second such breech) and claim they didn’t know anything about it as Equifax stocks tumbled. Remember Sergeant Schultz from Hogan’s Heroes? “I know nothing, nothing.” If I was in charge, I would give these guys two choices. Sodium Pentothal or Water Boarding. The truth would come out. Then prison and general population. Ouch!

D. Go to YouTube and type in, “Crazy lady argues with people about PTSD dog.” Strong language but it shows you the way this world is turning. Nuf’ said.

E. Two Afghan asylum seekers, ages 27 and 17, raped a 16-year-old girl in Bavaria. Their 18-year-old friend was stopped in the act. Refugees are suspected in 126 rapes, up from 66, over the same time last year in that state. Regardless of what some news outlets are trying to say in that these rapes are not occurring, check some European news outlets like I posted a couple of Robservations ago. Thanks again Angela Merkel for putting the hopes and aspirations of people who have no respect for your culture over the safety and security of your own population. Good job there.


Reader Comments(0)