Robb Allen

Go or No-Go?✈️

I just know those cheetos are hittin

The bravest man in the prison camp did not carry a rifle. He carried a Mass kit and a stolen sack of food, and the Communists were more afraid of him than of any soldier there. Father Emil Kapaun was a Catholic priest from a tiny farm town in Kansas. Soft spoken, humble, the kind of man who probably should have spent his life doing quiet parish work. Instead he put on an Army uniform and became a chaplain, and he ended up on the front line in Korea in the fall of 1950. At the battle of Unsan his unit got overrun by a massive Chinese assault. Men were told to pull out and save themselves. Kapaun refused to leave. He walked back and forth through the incoming fire, unarmed, dragging wounded soldiers out of the open, giving last rites to the dying, carrying men on his back. When the position finally fell he could have slipped away. He stayed with the wounded who could not move, knowing it meant capture. Then came the moment people never forgot. A Chinese soldier stood over a wounded American sergeant named Herbert Miller, about to execute him where he lay. Kapaun walked straight up, pushed the enemy soldier aside, picked the wounded man up off the ground, and carried him away. The enemy was so startled by the sheer nerve of it that they let it happen. Miller lived the rest of his life because a priest refused to let him be shot. What he did in the prison camp over the next seven months might be the most incredible part. In a filthy, freezing camp where men were dying of starvation and dysentery every day, Kapaun became the heart of the place. He snuck out at night to steal food for the sick. He boiled water in secret to keep men from dying of disease. He gave away his own tiny rations. He washed the filth off dying soldiers with his own hands, and he led prayers out loud in defiance of guards who beat him for it, keeping hope alive in men who had every reason to quit. The Communists hated him for it, because faith was the one thing they could not take from those prisoners as long as he was breathing. Eventually the beatings and the starvation and a blood clot broke his body. When he got too sick, the guards hauled him off to the death house, a filthy room where they dumped men to die alone. He forgave his guards on the way out. He died there in May 1951 at just thirty five years old. Sixty two years later they gave him the Medal of Honor. His fellow prisoners, the ones who lived because of him, spent their whole lives telling the world what he did. His body, long lost in an unmarked grave, was finally identified and brought home in 2021. And the Catholic Church is now on the road to declaring the humble priest from Kansas a saint.

INSANE FOOTAGE: Russian troops mounted a YakB-12.7 helicopter machine gun on a fixed stand for training, but the exercise quickly went wrong.

This is the Mona Lisa of tourist photos.

The very concept of the success is deeply immoral. If you are successful the other is loser. We shouldn’t accept it. We should prosper or suffer together. Otherwise it is satanic.