Lilian's June Newsletter

I have made an amazing discovery.... not being able to breathe properly will do one of two things. It either sends you into euphoria or wipes your slate clean in the middle of the word or thought.

May finally arrived, we all thought this was the time for winter to finally loose it's grip, little did we know what was to come for some parts of the country was far worse than a blizzard. Floods, mudslides and tornadoes to an extent none of us had seen before.
In 2003, while on the road filming I encountered 14 tornadoes. It was enough to change my experience with storms from joy to utter terror, each time the wind blows. Besides that, all of the towns I visited that year were partially or mostly destroyed in about a week's time in May 2011. More than 500 people lost their lives and thousands are homeless and traumatized for a long time to come. Like the month before, I was under the weather and had the time to follow the news reports and form an intelligent conclusion.

On my wall hangs a big yellow envelope. It is post marked March 31, 1998. Return address reads the Oprah Winfrey Show, PO Box 909715, Chicago, Illinois 60690. It survived the earthquake, and found a permanent home on that wall, to remind me that the path we think we want to take, and the actual road we travel on, in a strange way, takes us to the same destination. My almost appearance on the Oprah Winfrey Show came at a time when people were not ready for subjects that might have been discussed. It was at a time when many talk shows were so vulnerable, formats had to be changed and disguised. I accidentally ran into Oprah's very last show. In the announcement prior to the show I heard her mate, Stedman, say it was to be a very spiritual farewell.
I was fascinated by this woman picking up and summarizing the thoughts and feelings I experienced back then in 1998.

*People do matter.
*Some get paid and others do not, either way, when called to follow a certain path we do follow.
*Everything consists of energy and we are all connected.
*When we are born we are worthy of life, the mere fact that we are here verifies that.
*She reintegrated what Universe tells us within ourselves. Just wait, listen and KNOW.

I thought she had stayed true to herself all those years and remained the person I thought she was back than.

Around Mother's Day I ran into a small problem, deciding between heart surgery and/or throat surgery, which everyone is very leery of, due to some unusual work by a prior surgeon, I just did not get enough air. It was decided the safest action at the moment would be to have me blow into a balloon to see how much air I was getting and at what time I would flat-line.
I was referred to a sleep case I was not breathing properly while sleeping.
Before my appointment I was require to fill out the following paperwork:

Check any of the following words that apply to you:

Ugly Unassertive Inadequate Stupid
Useless Unloved Aggressive Life is empty
Guilty Confused Unattractive Can't do anything right
Evil Deformed Inconsiderate Full of hate
Naïve Repulsive In conflict Memory problems
Cowardly Restless Unsympathetic A nobody
Anxious Hostile Not worthwhile Morally wrong
Bored Agitated Not intelligent Horrible thoughts
Panicky Worthless Incompetent Full of regrets
Lonely Depressed Not confident Misunderstood

Check any of the following words that apply to you:

Headaches Shy with People Can't get a job
Palpitations Fainting spells Home conditions bad
Dizziness Suicidal ideas Can't make a decision
Nightmares Take Sedative Can't make friends
Feel tense Overambitious Financial problems
Depressed No appetite Inferior feelings
Insomnia Sexual problems Concentration difficulties
Fatigue Memory problems Don't like weekends/vacations
Alcoholism Feel Panicky Unable to have a good time
Take drugs Unable to relax Bowel disturbances
Tremors Stomach trouble Take antacids regularly (Tums, Tagamet, etc)

HELLOOOOO! I have a 3.5cm tumor in my neck!!!!!!!!

I stopped at the Health Food Store to buy a bottle of liquid Chlorophyll, thinking it might put a little oxygen in my blood. I asked the clerk where it was located. He followed me around and insisted I should buy several other products to help my blood, heart and lungs. I let him show off his knowledge in what ever he thought he knew and eventually FIRMLY repeated I wanted to buy Chlorophyll. When paying for it he calmly explained to me that if I was neither overweight nor smoking I would not suffer from lack of oxygen.

My granddaughter had a wisdom tooth pulled. Dentist refused to prescribe ANY pain medication to make sure she was not going to get addicted.

I found a note on my door to remove my water-tank-planter-artwork from my yard. I was a sought after artist in years past and did not consider my art rubbish, especially in a rather run down neighborhood. I gifted the piece to a person, who owns several pieces from the 80's, he was so excited. It helped me get over the insult and anger I experienced.

May was like very little oxygen to the brain. Politics, I said: "It either sends you into euphoria or wipes your slate clean in the middle of the word or thought". Like the AT&T commercial, which aired all month. It starts out with a few pretty flowers and just keeps growing until it overruns everything and chokes the crap out of the world around it.


Love and Light

My friend Cari Huston allowed me to share this very thought provoking Poem with you.

Memorial Day Again...But, I ask, What about Us??

The men and Brothers
puff up their chest
they pat each other on the back and
hang their heads in silence
A brotherhood gained in war
and shared each year anew
They thank each other for their Service
Identifying where they flew
They walked, they stalked, they floated or they rolled
they snuck or struck or slit the throats
blew up the air and land
they died and cried
they drink and think
and you can hear them still
My brothers who in Uniform.. came to be comrade, friend and kin
you hear them say again and yet again
remember us, remember them!
The fallen the slain, the broken and lame
we men in uniform...we played the game
Army men and Sailors, the Airmen and Marines
The brave men who were children
when first they came to slay
freshen your minds,
forget us not
pity us and find compassion
celebrate our warrior hoard
give us hero accolade,
provide us with due quarters
we drink, we stink, we fight, and some still slink about at night
we toss and scream out in our sleep
the terrors running deep
our families look at us and say... poor man
oh my, what he has seen
the enemy has done it’s job
and broken this one’s rest, he stood his post
He stood his ground
His Brothers he stood by
He carried home the wreckage of
his soul and carries still
His brothers bleeding bones
the soldier the wounded the brave.
Cut him slack, give him a break
the warrior within his soul has ache
But I ask you this kind souls...
What about US???

You celebrate the proud young men
many whom’v grown old
the fallen and the broken
the twisted and the bold
You pat their backs
you buy them beer
you talk to them
and then you cheer

But, again, I ask you this, kind souls....
What about US?

The men all decked out in the medals
ribbons on their chests
they know each where they got them
they recognize the best
They wear their hats that do declare
their specific Veteran status
Vietnam, or World War II,
they wear ‘em if they’ve got ‘em
The hats in black, blue, red and white
to show each other where they did fight
a badge of courage, Identify
a bunch of brothers
unrepentant... vanity
They see in each other the hero’s pride
the battle scars and the conquerors might
they jostle for the right to claim
my gun is bigger, the better my aim
they puff and huff
jostle and joke
band together to measure
each lion’s share
each stripe or star, each dot or spot
they cry and spy
the risen or fallen warriors
all the MEN who die

And I ask you this my friend???
What about US?

The WOMEN who have served their nation
are broken, spindled... bent
the ones who are forgotten
the ones you overlook
We are your daughters, your sisters
your wives
Your Aunties, your cousins
and for some of you... we’re your mothers.
And yet we get no quarter
no puffing or a ribbon
no card to say
good job you did
I’m proud to know your name
I see your faces and the places
you’ve gone and come back from
I see the years and acknowledge the tears
when I see what it has cost you
Memorial Day... It’s only for the men
no accolades for us
you seem to wish we’d just disappear
and let us see the visions
of men and uniforms little more than boys
marching in parade for all the world to see
while all you women just fade away
and let us lie in peace
for surely all you gals
just went and had your fun
we called you Dike and Slut and Whore
we let you fire a gun
what have You to be sad about?
you had your time out in the sun
now please step back and let us pat
another hero’s welcome
to the men who fought or died
to keep our nation... welcome.
Why are you moaning and hanging your heads?
we are tired of your stories of
soldiers who were cruel to you
after all it wasn’t gore-y.
The men earned all their glory
please just step back, fade away
get back to work and step aside
the men are marching through
Memorial Day... we’ve jobs to do
puff up our men who’ve done us proud
would you please just go away?!
you women cry too loud.

And again, I ask you...
What about US?

You see the men who served our nation
as people who rose above their station
courageous and brave they fought and died
a heroes welcome..... now you sigh
Their enemies were slant eyed or round
either way they were hunted down
the Soviets, Germans or Gooks
Iraqis now Afghanis too
how brave our men in uniform are
they keep us safe... away from harm
The enemy was someone else
identified by nation
trench coated, pajama’d or furry hatted
each identity framed and matted
but what about US?

A hero’s welcome for a Uniform
I cannot bear to see...
my enemy was not the same
it lived much closer to me
the men who beat us
bent us
raped us
the ones who broke our souls,
came not afar
not from elsewhere
but just down left of main street
Some of Those brothers whose back you pound
beat us to the ground
they tore our spirits limb from limb
they broke the women from within
our enemy wore uniforms
their uniforms the same as ours
our brothers, fathers, uncles, cousins
all of whom you celebrate
did purposely seek to mate us
stating is was just our fate cuz
we shouldn’t be there anyway
so who cared what was done to us?
not the men who set to use us
or the ones who stood and let them
would you please shut up and stop your crying
suck it up and get on with lying
don’t take it close
don’t let it affect you
just get over it you know you liked it
of course no means yes
and if you scream who cares?
not the men down the hall
or those who gathered
to watch their brother, brothers or others
fold you, spindle, bend or break you

What about US???

What about the woman now,
who cannot leave her house
for fear of men who could be ‘round
she was a warrior once, now a mouse
What about the one who fears
who grasps at straws to keep from screaming
when her baby boys now grown tall
wrap their arms around her
or ask a kiss of mother?
No longer does she see her child
but a man who could so easily beat or rape her
her panic overrides her judgement
as the past comes up to haunt her
her children are affected, and now must back away
their mother is still wounded
no longer can she play
she is still, again, living in the day
when a “hero” in a uniform
beat her with his weapon
and other so called good men too
stood and watched and let him
they jostled and they elbowed
so to improve their view
as one of their great brethren
split her womb in two
some even joined in the fun
and took their turns upon her
and then they left her lying there
her soldier uniform torn, worn and blooded
a piece of just used garbage
And yet you say
It is again
Memorial Day

But, I ask you... What about US?

What about the woman
she’s so much younger than I
just in her early twenties
who cannot see past the lie
don’t worry dear you’re young not old
you’ve time to heal and learn
that given enough drugs and booze
you might un-learn
the murder of your dreams
The day the good old hero
a brother in your unit
ripped your uniform down to your knees
and tied you up ‘til helpless
not only did he rape and beat you
but gave you a disease
no children will you ever bear
your womb has been removed
your mind once sharp... no more
the damage did run deep
a brilliant life cut short and changed
because one man wanted to get off
he took what he wanted
and the men who he reported to
let him walk. it was his first offense
matters not your career is lost
your honor and your trust
this woman’s mind no longer works
as well as it once did
brain damage and then HPV
a woman’s dreams torn down
the man who was your brother
allowed to keep his ground
only he was transferred to a unit
who did not know his deeds
no jail time will he serve
yet imprisoned in her memories
she shall always be

Memorial Day again...
I beg to ask you,
What about US?

What about the women who you once claimed to love
the ones who cry out in the night
who cannot stand to see a fight
who cannot go out in a crowd
because men might be around
the women who have learned
that although their nation they have served
they will be honored not one wit
for no one cares what they just did
The women who in youth naive,
did choose to serve with bravery
their nation’s call they answered yes
to travel, college and ingest
that duty, honor, country
was their call
the women lined up in the hall
and raised their hands and swore their oath
one nation under god for all
yet when it comes down to the wall
their service counted not at all
for they only provoked the men... the gall
why dare they show their face in here?
men ask each other o’er their beer
we should show the bitches who’s the man
teach them who has might... and plan
to teach those whores and sluts
and dikes and wreckers where to stand
behind us or down under
on their knees or bent over
the brothers in arms will show them
what it takes to be a hero
what it takes to be so brave
a pack of men who hunt together
who may not approve, but will not save her
for to stand up and to be counted
would lose them face
and have them booted
out of the club of men
each who count as brothers

And again I ask you...
What about US?

What about the women
whose heads hang deep in shame
who see themselves as failures
‘cause they just don’t recover

from the pain gained in the game
they cannot find the hope again
or the belief that they matter
they cannot move past being filth
or having been served up on a platter
an innocent led to slaughter
they were not ever
nor could they ever
be prepared for where they went
Who could have told them what would happen?
if so foolishly, naively, they joined to serve
Perhaps the only ones who could understand
were the women who had already been silenced
the ones from WWII who flew
yet no recognition or recompense did they gain
they taught the men to fly
and ferried planes ‘cross seas to them
not just taught them to fly those planes
but also how to shoot them
they drug those targets cross the skies
for all those rookies to aim at
and had to dip into their purses
to cover each others’ funeral payment
for their sacrifices, their service
to this nation
counted not then.
Perhaps if we had known where to find them
they could have counseled us to refrain
from attempting to enter this dream
that turned quickly shameful
twisted and dark... a night mare.
But those women were already silenced.
Time was killing them off
Warriors. Brave. Courageous
A few Sisters we knew not existed.
They might have said do it.
It might just be worth it, but then
again, they might have seen through it
for most men, though time marches on,
seem not to grow up.
They are still making war
they still fight and die,
just back then they didn’t talk so much about it.
Who knows what our sister would’ve said,
we knew not where to find them then to ask
Do you remember them??
Memorial day asks again
What about the women?

What about the women,
so hurt and so searching
seek answers from any around them
they look for a way back
to themselves
from wherever they’ve gone
down in emotions,
or up in their heads
some turned to drugs or to drink
others have shunned that
prefer to tough through it,
whatever “IT” is
PTSD, depression
Obsessive Compulsive
all kinds of damages done
triggers all over
setting them off
swinging through and back again
Instead of compassion
no one seems to back them
if we are, we might not see it
Our vision’s been colored
by losing our belief and our faith
in MANkind and
all that we know
our world’s now upside to down
inside to out
our trust perhaps eternally broken
and... some of us keep hoping
we partner up or marry
raise children
our own offspring or anothers'
matters not where they come from
as much as we may try
we aren’t really all there in order to act
like the good wife, the good mother
just your sister or your aunt
the past keeps coming back in
keeping us locked half away

Please tell me
this Memorial Day
as you remember... What about Us?

What about the women?
Our female warrior types?
the Tomboys and rough-housers
the girls
girls we grew up with
now women with out
no place do they fit
to serve their country
how much did they pay?
their families turn their backs to them
tsk tsking all the way
why can’t these daughters, cousins,
aunties, sisters, mothers
just get on, cheer up, recover
move on into their new life?
the greatest honor is be somebodies wife???
why can’t they keep their tempers
lift their heads and smile real bright
have you been there
when these women heard
some someone say
it was nothing personal
it really hasn’t mattered
which women that were beaten,
no matter what your name was,
take comfort in anonymity
you really, personally, did not matter...
boys will be boys you see
and since our heroes are all wounded
you must just cut those men some slack
for warriors must be stroked and patted.
poor woman, can’t you see just how
your crying does annoy us?
why don’t you please just walk away
and leave us our delusions
we wish to celebrate our heroes
and with you whining on the sidelines
its so much harder to ignore you.
So what, if you have lost your way
or you’ve lost the ability to earn your pay
You’ve lost your jobs
you’ve lost your wombs
your self respect... a bomb that blew
no true love do you have to hold you
for most men just seem to scold you
treat you as though you are only broken
no more than a child, a bitch, a thing, a token
no matter what you are or aren’t
it truly doesn’t matter
he only thinks he owns you
just do as your good men all have told you
suck it up, lay down and shut up
step aside, or push the vacuum
be a good girl and don’t whimper
just get over it and for god’s sake
don’t lose your temper
bite your tongue and learn to smile
put on your mask and paint your face
go on with life
and put down that mace!
take good care of the men around you
especially those poor warriors too
it matters not what happened to you
who wants to hear it??
please just shut up
Walk away, get on with life
stop creating so much strife
you claim we did not write you letters
that we did not care
we care not still
you should have known
what you’d just got into
We’ll keep on saying
You women should’ve known better
just what did you expect
you’re just women,
of course you failed
when you tried
to be worthy like the men...
and now you’re fried?
You’re all just women
the weakest of the sexes
you did not belong there
you got your lesson
it goes to show you
if you’re bothered
you didn’t get it... you just aren’t welcome
Discrimination, brutality and butt of jokes
crudity and cruelty surrounded you
what did you think when you did enter
to serve your country
to make life better?

and I ask you
What about us?

Memorial day... for those remembered
I suppose you cannot just include us
for you never did take notice
that we honorably entered service
with pride and naivete that youth project
we thought to give all that we could offer
our talent and potential, our intellect
our pride, our joy
we didn’t know about the “good old boy”
we didn’t understand
what it would do to be a target
it wasn’t in our plan
we thought, in our youth
just like the men
we had everything to give and gain
to earn the right of freedom
Did you think to be Objectified
Ostracized or bent?
Crushed out
snuffed out
into a spiral sent
a living hell no warning bell
no notice from where it comes
yet you’re supposed to pick yourselves up
brush it off
move on
but come on now sister
stand up and fight for honor
your brothers to defend
hot zone cold zone cold war real war
keep society
free to do the things it does
no questioning what that means
did you really think at all
that the freedoms were meant for thee?
They say they could not trust you
only men would have their back
in the foxhole
sea or air
no breathing room for you to share
when did it truly first sink in
that they’d not be there for you
you’re just a novelty to them
a notch upon some belts
not counted, ranked or valued high
an asset, did you think?
something to be talked about
as each they lift their drink

So I ask you this Memorial Day...
What about us??


What about the woman
a nurse, her profession
her dream, her talent
in her delusion that youth did bring
she entered service to help the maimed
now she cannot sleep at night
the horror of the unforgettable sights
the soldier who at his demand
his hand she held napalm still smoldered
the meat fell off into her palm
as she swallowed her bile
and in his eyes did gaze
giving him comfort while her world
crumbled away
She cannot undo the stench
the sights
the gore
the touch
the sounds
of boys called men
who all around
begged this mere woman
to save their souls
to help them remember
that they have been loved
the touch of a woman
the gentleness held
as they lay dying
with her at their side
She smiled so sweetly and to their faces
using comforting words
she lied
to calm them and dress them
her mind quietly
the woof and the web
all coming apart
deep down,
Again, and again
she wrote their last letters
and promises she’ll mail them
while she struggles to keep it together
somewhere inside her
she seems to remember
that just a few days before
these men who now need her
that demand her as savior
who depend upon her heart and soul
called her a whore
as her clothing they tore
some threw her down
with their cocks
they ripped at her innards
and laughed while they tore her apart
now laying there bleeding, burning or dying
expecting her pity, compassion, her deed
reaching out to her in Their need

What about the women
who broke down the barriers
who opened the doors for now?
the ones who entered
in the beginning of timing
to tasks before that were closed
they truly were not free
the pilots, mechanics
parachutists and rangers
crew chiefs and door gunners?
Pioneering for those that will follow
our victories seem hollow
as no accolades did we earn
we bare’ kept our heads up
as the swamp it did rise
those brothers, those men
came and despised
What about Us?
we put on our uniforms
we fought for our honor.
we learned to dig foxholes
and march
we took all the training
along side our “brothers”
yet still came to realize late
we were targets
just bait
when boys will be boys
you find men all around
they’re tall and they’re strong
moustached and or hairless
but cowards and bullies
they’ll take down the lesser than they
They’ll watch out for each other
cover backs,
cover asses , recover
blame the women and let walk the men
for whose fault could it be
if you walked in where he be?
he will take what he wants
his company commander
his wing leader his buddy his brother
will cover his back and dismiss all the charges
if prosecution is sought for the deed
know that only if damaged so severely that they
will finally charge them with
government property damage did he.
Not rape nor assault
not murder attempted
only bending some government tool
ship her off out of sight
put her out, do not fight
whistle blower will only get worse.
Memorial day... hhhmmm
they will say
proud to have served,
yes the men
What about US?

Privileges on post some may have earned
shopping where our dollar will stretch
some have fought through their doubts
gotten help when they finally reached out
and argued for disability pay
but for many who cannot
and will not come forward
they may never be seen
for what most may not realize
or perhaps just don’t care
that our uniformed men
those heroes those warriors
those good american men
are our greatest enemy
the cause of our fear
While yes
Some have grown old
yet the VA they do haunt.
Some slower, some wiser and grayer
but they still hunt in packs
target women
just facts
sniggering as they swagger
elbowing each other as though
they have something worth prizing
molly coddled, protected
for it seems
poor men must be cared for
excuses be made.
as the women who may brave the halls
keep their backs to the walls
so that no man can come up behind her
taking stairs, not elevators
cause they can’t get out
when the men crowd the way
some men stand and shout
they holler quite loudly with pats on the backs
as they shout recognition of brothers
Kosevo, Panama
Germany, Italy
Vietnam and Iraq
puff their chests and their heads
and ignore the bare sights
of the panic the women choke down
so many of us cannot brave the day
to come in for help at the VA
those men who destroyed us
will all have their say
they have groups... go on forever
yet the women ten weeks
if you’re lucky, not get cancelled
you may get counselled one day
hope to spill it all in just 30
‘cause you’ll get not a minute more
have the floor fall from under
your feet as you fall,
still no counselor will help find your wall
you’re still on your own
even though gray you have grown
the men still protected
behavior glossed over
the drunks, the depraved and the addicts
you’re still of no value
the men who won’t rape you,
won’t even protect you
‘cause Sister
nothing has changed
if they are not threatened
by the perverts and prowlers
they’ll not stand between them and their prey
suck it up, just get over it
stop men bashing
love yourself
get past it
and get on with life
no one to relate to
but other women who have
at one time
in their youth

Memorial Day...
But, What about Us?

What about the woman
at a pow wow one day
something new to experience
did go
natives proud celebrate
warriors parade
a drum beat-ed dance round the grounds
all those she was with
got up from the bench and
joined with their brothers in arms
Native browns, and some whites,
all standing tall in their height
and she sat all alone on the bench
her spouse finally turned back round
and said why aren’t you come down
this dance if for you to do too
she sat thunderstruck
and not understanding
for in all of her days
never once had a soul
spoken words just to say
You were a warrior too
I am honoring you
Thank you for all that you gave

The woman broke down
with an ache so profound
as she joined in the warriors dance
she couldn’t imagine
what to do with the kindness
or accolades shown her that day
no one spoke to her personally
just one of a group
yet in sorrow she almost drowned
for a group of people
whom she had not met
had finally said ....
thank you
for all that you are
and for all that you did
they knew not Her story
knew not of Her pain
yet saw in Her veins
the difference that had always been there
the courage and honor that drove her to serve
a light with a difference
the power of women...
feminine and fair
with a heart brave, strong and true
the strength owned by women
yet she must be told
as the posters will show
that Women are Veterans too
they don’t understand
that their sacrifice
and their broken plans
earned them the right
to be honored as one of the few
for they each have learned
that the years that they served won’t
mean anything to anyone anywhere
so many women have served
who will never receive
compensation or even kind words
they are all moved aside
as the men in their pride
puff their chests, lift their heads
and stride by

so I’ll ask you again...
What about Us?

What about the women
whose daughters and sons and sisters and brothers
thank their fathers, brothers and husbands
they thank the men who have served
fought and died or were maimed
yet they walk past their mothers to get there
you’re still living they say
no one shot you or aimed
a gun at your face or your back
suck it up, quit you’re whining
drink a beer or champagne
just get up past your pain.
It’s all in your head,
please don’t talk, you just bore us
it’s easier to deal with the men
they wear hats and their ribbons
join clubs and tell stories
they compare weaponry and their aim
while you women just whine and complain
that they’re hurt or are lame
so they shouldn’t have entered the game
step aside I say
it’s Memorial Day
wave a flag, pat a soldier
have a picnic... a parade
salute all the men
honor their service, their pain
come on now, move over
it’s Memorial Day.

I ask it again...
What about Us???
and the broken young girl inside
someone’s daughter, sister, cousin
wife, mother or friend
in a trembling voice
what about me?


written on May 27th 2011
Cari Marie Huston
Senior Aviator
Chief Warrant Officer 3
United States Army
Initially Enlisted in the Women’s Army Corp (WAC)
1975-1984 Active Duty
Individual Ready Reserve Roles- present time
1st Female Combat Assault Helicopter Pilot
UH-1 D & H models
173rd Combat Assault Helicopter Co., 11th Aviation Battalion, V Corp
Fliegerhorst Kaserne, West Germany
D Company, 24th Aviation Battalion, 24th Mechanized Infantry Division
Hunter Army Airfield, Savannah Georgia
UH-60A (1st Female Blackhawk pilot)
Charlie Company, Combat Assault 24th Avn. Bn.
Hunter AAF Savannah, Georgia
Disabled American Veteran - for the rest of my life


I was honored and privileged to be the first woman to pilot the Sikorsky UH-60, while still in Flight School at Ft. Rucker, Alabama in 1977. I later became the first Female Warrant Officer, and 2nd Woman, to transition into the UH-60A, Cpt. MaryJo Carr, May She Please Rest in Peace, being the first woman as a Maintenance Officer of E Co. 24th Avn Bn., to receive the Blackhawk transition.
Proud to have supported the 1/75th Ranger Bn.
And yes, that egotistical little asshole damned near killed us that day in Dahlonega.

Copyrighted 2011. Reproductions allowed in it’s entirety only.