…from the ATF?
On the off chance that, like the gun-grabbing ATF, you’re not real clear on what Patriots’ day commemorates…
Acting on orders from London to suppress the rebellious colonists, General Thomas Gage, recently appointed royal governor of Massachusetts, ordered his troops to seize the colonists’ military stores at Concord.
Yep, that’s when we killed 273 statist thugs out to confiscate American arms. Military arms, of the sort the ATF and their enabling Dims think we shouldn’t be allowed to possess. And fought an eight year war to hammer the point home. With those military arms.
History may not repeat, but it rhymes. The ATF may want to consider other things that took place on this date. Some of us do remember.
I might add, “Don’t fire till you see the whites of their eyes,” but that might be a little hard to see.
Fortunately, they won’t see you either.
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Happy Patriots day to all, as well. It is just a coincidence, but the road that I live on, and have since 1994, is named Patriot Lane. I know that is strange, but I kind of enjoy it. I look out and see the road sign right in front of my place and it gives me a nice feeling.
I didn’t actually realize that the war lasted 8 years. I do know that the people who fought it were made of considerably sterner stuff than what most of this current generation is made up of. Not all of them, of course, since there are many today who would still step up to defend the nation against our enemies, including both foreign and domestic. The problem is that it is beginning to look more likely that the next conflict that sees fighting will be with domestic enemies, rather than a foreign power. And we will have no excuses other than the fact that we allowed it to happen when we let them take prayer and patriotism out of our schools. Neither one of them were meant to be prohibited by the constitution from our education system, which I still am not convinced is constitutional. Unless the constitution provides for it, is it proper to finance it with public money?
In any case, Happy Patriots Day, and we need to thank G-d that we had enough brave and steadfast men willing to risk not only their lives, but the lives and welfare of their entire families, on something larger than themselves. But then, with great risk comes great reward. I have always believed that G-d ordained the United States as a nation, to be ruled by His will, and by His Word. We lost that sometime in the 1960’s, and we began our descent into decay and away from His protection ever since then. There is no such thing as a middle Republican or Democrat anymore. There is only far right or far left. If you say you are conservative or liberal, you don’t fit either party. And I believe it is this extremism that will tear down the nation, and Patriotism will be condemned by both sides and ridiculed as being out of touch with the needs of America. The left by not being woke enough and the right by not being technological enough. America likely won’t go out with the bang of nuclear winter like we used to fear, but with a whimper, when we no longer can pay for all of the desires that we allowed to become our gods.
Pigpen if folks live on Patriot Lane, you’re certainly one of the people that should live there. It is very fitting.
I think the decline is linked as well. Traditional values like patriotism, religion and community have plunged dramatically among Americans: poll https://nypost.com/2023/03/27/values-like-patriotism-religion-falling-out-of-favor-among-americans-poll/
But at times, even though the news is disheartening, and we have a whole bunch raised in public schools, without good guidance from parents, I kind of have a feeling that perhaps the normal people are still the majority in the country. Maybe. Which is why Biden is leaving the border wide open. But I think the number of people that know which restroom to use may yet outnumber those that are confused by such deep philosophical and biological questions.
Honor ain’t about age!
The moment Samuel Whittemore is best known for took place on April 19, 1775. His marker says he was 80 – some historians say 78 – in reality, what matters is, despite his advanced age – which was even more advanced then than it would be today – he had the heart of a lion. Remember, Whittemore wanted the Colonies to have freedom, so he was vehemently against the British forces battling to keep the early Americans under King George’s thumb. And he was willing to do whatever it took to make it happen.
On the day in question, the Battles of Lexington and Concord had just ended, and British forces had been (eventually) whipped by the Colonials. It was officially the start of the Revolutionary War, and Americans were going to make their mark as a people who fight tooth-and-nail for what they believe in. As the British made their retreat, they were plagued (read: killed) along the way by sniping colonials; it was a fantastic example of both skillful marksmanship and blind luck that led to the Americans gaining the reputation of being ruthless, down-and-dirty fighters, and Whittemore was going to increase that rep tenfold.
When the British came near Whittemore’s farm, he was, of course, expected not to engage them. He was a mild-mannered farmer, right? Not even close. Historians say he grabbed his famous dueling pistols and musket – Whittemore wasn’t going to let the British pass by his home without giving them a little stone-cold treatment. Two versions exist here – one says he told his concerned family to stay indoors and await his return, the other says his family had fled for safety’s sake and he refused to go along – but either way, he was out for blood.
On Mystic Street, near what is today the corner of Chestnut Street, he hunkered down behind a stone wall. There were Minutemen, as there were all along the British path, and some of them felt the elderly man should go to safety, or at least a better hiding spot, but he refused. From that spot, he ambushed the British Grenadiers of the 47th Regiment, at the age of 80 (or 78), with an apparent steel spine.
Whittemore knew how to make a stand. When the British were upon him, he stood from his hiding place and calmly fired his musket, killing a British soldier. Then he drew his dueling pistols and, like a true stone-cold badass, our hero aimed, fired, and killed a second British soldier – then aimed, fired, and mortally wounded a third. By this time, the much-younger and really-pissed-off British were coming for him, and he was down to his sword – yes, the French one he’d so famously obtained decades earlier – and they were on him.
The British meant to kill the elderly man right there on the side of the road. One of them emptied his Brown Bess into Whittemore’s face; the round tore through his cheek, knocking him flat. Others beat him with their fists and feet while others used their bayonets to stab and slash at him viciously. When they felt they’d sufficiently brutalized him, and were confident of his impending death, the spineless Brits who overpowered an old man walked away. Whittemore had been shot point-blank in the face with a .75 caliber musket ball, bayoneted 13 times, and clubbed repeatedly. Any normal man would have died.
As the British continued on their way, Whittemore raised himself up from the pool of his own blood and began trying to load his musket to give them a parting shot. The villagers, who had hidden during the assault, came out when they felt the British were far enough away, and were shocked to find him attempting a second fight. They used a door to transport the obviously dying Whittemore to the nearby Cooper Tavern, and a Doctor Nathaniel Tufts set about treating his many wounds. But it was quickly clear to the doctor he couldn’t save the old man; he should have already bled to death. Stating it wasn’t even worth dressing the wounds, Tufts stopped, but the villagers begged him to try, and so he did. When he was done, Whittemore’s still form was carried home, where it was assumed he would soon die.
But as we all know, American heroes are some of the baddest of the bad and the toughest of the tough, and when Whittemore went home, he didn’t die. In fact, he recovered, and lived for 18 more years before passing away at the age of 98 on February 2, 1793. He was asked whether he regretted his actions on that day in April, and he must have been disgusted to be asked when he replied “No! I would take the same chance all over again.”
Whittemore lived long enough to see his hopes and dreams reach fruition. He lived to see the ratification of the U.S. Constitution and saw another badass, George Washington, become our nation’s first president. And, best of all, he lived with the sure knowledge he’d always fought courageously and tirelessly for what he believed in. And that, my friend, is the mark of a real American hero: honor.
https://blog.uspatriottactical.com/american-heroes-stone-cold-samuel-whittemore/
Oh my gosh I LOVE that story!! I heard it long ago at an Appleseed. There were many such patriots. We come from good stock. On our forefathers and foremother’s side ;). slightly swiped from The Patriot.
Thank you for putting that up Comrade X.