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To: unclewest who wrote (81341)	10/28/2004 7:45:12 AM
From: LindyBill	Respond to of 793801

I find this story amazing. It's because of the outcry in Britain about it. The British are the only Military that can even pretend to project power the way we do. And the more we get wired, the less they can keep up with us. We really don't want any other countries military fighting WITH us anymore. You notice the Brits were assigned Basra as a seperate operation.

To: unclewest who wrote (81341)	10/28/2004 7:51:54 AM
From: John Carragher	Respond to of 793801

our military are the best in the world.. too bad our own newspapers, tv stations and magazines do not recognized them. We still hear the same bs that journalist let us down when they were with the troops and now are trying to make up for it and bring balance to Iraq situation.. this is pure disinformation. These people are trying to bring down our president at the expense of our military's reputation.

To: unclewest who wrote (81341)	10/28/2004 10:04:44 AM
From: D. Long	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 793801

Even more amazing is this battalion has a rep as one of the UK's toughest Isn't that unit the historical crazy fighting Irish in some of Kipling's stories? They be goin to have some tay wit em. One of my favorite Kipling stories - With the Main Guard: ‘Captain O’Neil—Old Crook—Cruik-na-bul-leen—him that I tould ye that tale av whin he was in Burma. Hah! He was a Man. The Tyrone tuk a little orf’cer bhoy, but divil a bit was he in command, as I’ll dimonsthrate prisintly. We an’ they came over the brow av the hill, wan on each side av the gut, an’ there was that ondacint Reserve waitin’ down below like rats in a pit. ‘“Howld on, men,” sez Crook, who tuk a mother’s care av us always. “Rowl some rocks on thim by way av visitin’-kyards.” We hadn’t rowled more than twinty bowlders, an’ the Paythans was beginnin’ to swear tremenjus, whin the little orf’cer bhoy av the Tyrone shqueaks out acrost the valley: “Fwhat the divil an’ all are you doin’, shpoilin’ the fun for my men? Do ye not see they’ll stand?” ‘“Faith, that’s a rare pluckt wan!” sez Crook. “Niver mind the rocks, men. Come along down an’ take tay wid thim!” ‘“There’s damned little sugar in ut!” sez my rear-rank man; but Crook heard. ‘“Have ye not all got spoons?” he sez, laughin’, an’ down we wint as fast as we cud.