#CSAR

[nocternalrandomness]

King 81 working the pattern at Riverside

[usafphantom2]

58 years ago today, the legendary Sikorsky MH-53 Pave Low took to the skies for the first time. A workhorse of USAF CSAR and special operations, it set the standard for long-range, all-weather rescue missions well into the 2000s.

@RealAirPower1 via X

[postcard-from-the-past]

French composer and organist César Franck on a vintage postcard

[hamadisthings]

UPDATE: The Chat Control (AKA: CSAR) vote has been postponed for now! 🎉 This is great news! But the fight isn't over yet as it is expected that the Hungarian presidency will bring it up again. So continue to contact your MEPs and if you want some extra resources join the Protect European Internet discord server (EDRi petition here)

discord.gg/FPDJYkUujM

HELP US STOP CHAT CONTROL!

If you live in the EU, you absolutely need to pay attention to what's to come. What is Chat Control, you may ask? In a (failed) attempt to combat child abuse online the EU made Chat Control, Chat Control will result in getting your private messages and emails to be scanned by artificial intelligence aka AI to search for CSAM pictures or discussion that might have grooming in there. And on top of having your private conversations handed to AI or the police to snoop in, like your family pictures, selfies, or more sensitive pics, like the medical kind, only meant to be seen by your doctors, or the "flirtatious" kind you send to your partner, you either have to ACCEPT to be scanned...or else you will be forbidden from sending pictures, videos, or even links, as said here.

Kids should absolutely be protected online, without question, but the things that Chat Control gets wrong is that this is a blatant violation of privacy, without even considering the fact that AI WILL create tons of false positives, this is not a theory, this is a fact. And for all the false positives that will be detected, all of them will be sent to the police, which will just flood their system with useless junk instead of efficiently putting resources to actual protect kids from predators.

It also does not help that politicians, police officers, soldiers etc will be exempt from Chat Control if it passes. If it's for the sake of protection, shouldn't everyone get the same treatment? Which further prove that Chat Control would NOT keep your data of private life safe. Plus, bad actors will simply stop using messenger apps as soon as they know they're being tracked, using more obscure means, meanwhile innocent people will be punished by using those services On top of this, the EU also plans on reintroducing Data retention called "EU Going Dark". Both Chat Control and EU Going Dark are clear violation of the GDPR, and even if they shouldn't stand a chance in court, its not going to prevent politicians from trying to ram these through as an excuse to mass surveil European citizens, using kids as a shield. Even teenagers sending pictures to each other won't be exempt, which entirely goes against the purpose of protecting kids by retaining their private photos instead. Furthermore, once messaging apps are forced to comply with Chat Control, the president of Signal, a secured messaging app with encryption, have confirmed that they will be forced to leave the EU if this is enforced against them.

If Chat Control also ends up targeting any websites with the option of private messages, you better expect Europe to be geo-blocked by any websites offering such function. I would also like to add that EU citizens were very vocal in the fight against KOSA, an equally bad internet bill from the US-- and it showed! Which is why we heavily need the help of our fellow US peers to fight against Chat Control too, so please, because we all know if it passes, the US government will take a look at this and conclude "Ooh, a way to force mass surveillance on citizens even more than before? don't mind if I do!" It's always a snowball effect.

KEEP IN MIND THE EUROPE COUNCIL WILL LIKELY VOTE ON CHAT CONTROL THIS 19 JUNE OF NEXT WEEK TO SEE IF IT WILL ENTER TRILOGIES OR NOT. Even if it does enter Trilogues, the fight will only be beginning. Absentees may not count as a no, so it is crucial that you contact your MEPs HERE, as well as HERE, and you can also show your support for Edri's campaign against Chat Control HERE.

You can read more on Chat Control here as well, and you can find useful information as to which arguments to use when politely contacting your MEP (calling is better than email) here, and beneath you will find graphics you can use to spread the word!

YOU CAN ALSO JOIN OUR DISCORD SERVER (linked here) TO HELP ORGANIZE AGAINST CHAT CONTROL NON EU PEOPLE ARE MORE THAN WELCOME TO JOIN TOO!

https://discord.gg/FPDJYkUujM

PLEASE REBLOG ! NON EU PEOPLE ARE ENCOURAGED TO REBLOG AS WELL CONTACT YOUTUBERS, CONTENT CREATORS, ANYONE YOU KNOW THAT MAY HELP GET THE WORD OUT ! Let's fight for our Internet and actually keep kids safe online! Because Chat Control and EU Going Dark will only endanger kids.

PLEASE REBLOG! NON EU PEOPLE ARE ENCOURAGED TO REBLOG AS WELL CONTACT YOUTUBERS, CONTENT CREATORS, ANYONE YOU KNOW THAT MAY HELP GET THE WORD OUT !

Let's fight for our Internet and actually keep kids safe online! Because Chat Control and EU Going Dark will only endanger kids.

[enkinegio]

I find it funny that the etymology of a bunch of words for king is the guy that got stabbed to death for wanting to be king

[aresdifesa]

In Spagna il primo NH90 Standard 3 per l'Ejército del Aire y del Espacio E' atterrato in Spagna il primo NH90 Standard 3 destinato al Ejército del Aire y del Espacio

[casbooks]

Book 58 of 2024 (★★★★★)

Title: North SAR Authors: Gerry Carroll

Series: 1 of SAR ISBN: 9780671731830

Rating: ★★★★★

Subject: Books.Fiction.Military.Vietnam, Books.Military.20th-21st Century.Asia.Vietnam War.Fiction

Description: The riveting national bestseller--"a zinger of an adventure . . . chock full of the real stuff" (Stephen Coonts)--as seen through the eyes of the Navy Combat SAR (Search and Rescue) helicopter pilots who flew many of the most dangerous missions of the war. Tom Clancy, who provides the introduction, calls North S.A.R. "the best novel I have ever read".

My Review: I read this book back when it first came out and loved it. The writing, the humor, the characters, and the tension kept me hooked from start to finish. The author really knew what he was writing about, and most importantly, how to tell a story that interwove so many different people, from the highest of admirals, to the lowliest of junior officers all while enmeshing them into the stress of the last bit of America's involvement in the Vietnam War.

Re-reading this book was a different experience. I'm not one who usually re-reads books because I have so many others to read that I am excited to dig in to, but after the last book being such a slog, I wanted to enmesh myself in something I knew I loved, and see if it still holds up 30+ years later! The fact is, it's STILL a good book! But knowing the ending did take away a lot of the tension and emotional roller coaster that is a major theme of the book. So with that aspect removed/spoiled by my previous reading and remembrance, it left me more open to just enjoy the details and the world the author built. From details of carrier life, to the air wings, to all of the little bits included. It was really enjoyable to sort of slow down and enjoy the elements vs rushing to see what happens next! Still a wonderful book, and I highly recommend it and all of Gerry Carroll's writing. He was a magnificent author who was gone way too soon. I needed another 50 books from him!

[stylearche]

[nocternalrandomness]

USAF Lockheed HC-130J Combat King II coming out of Elmendorf AFB, Alaska

[llycaons]

He knew Jiang Fengman had loved Madam Yu when he married her, but that love didn’t survive the years of their marriage, turning bitter and cold.

this fic is spot-on about a lot of details and characterizations, but I cannot agree with this I'm afraid. man disappointed in love unenthusiastically but dutifully marrying a woman he doesn't really like or bust

[postcard-from-the-past]

César Franck's statue in Paris

French vintage postcard

[freyrnigeria]

Freyr provides cosmetic regulatory services in China for compliant market entry in accordance with CSAR regulations. Registration of cosmetic products, consultation with regulators, notification, product classification, and review of cosmetic claims are among these services.

[sapphic-design-is-my-passion]

"The CSaR Mercenary Company was founded at least in part using funds from an anonymous Lyran investor. The team specializes in their namesake: Combat Search and Rescue. They will not take militaries as clients, instead locating and extracting civilians in a warzone at the request of the local government or philanthropic individual."

[soldierporn]

Final Flight of the Bulldogs.

DAVIS-MONTHAN AIR FORCE BASE, Ariz. 21 JUN 2024.

Photos by Senior Airman Vaughn Weber.

Story by Airman 1st Class Jhade Herrera and Senior Airman Vaughn Weber. Edited by R. Etzweiler.

The 354th Fighter Squadron and 354th Fighter Generation Squadron have flown their last A-10C Thunderbolt II sortie.

The fini flight was flown by Lt. Col. Patrick "Meat" Chapman, commander of the 354th Fighter Squadron.

The inactivations of the 354th FS and 354th FGS come as their assigned A-10s are sent to The Boneyard. The base makes way for the planned arrival of the 492nd Special Operations Wing.

The Bulldogs last deployed to Al Dhafra Air Base from October 2023 to April 2024 in support of the first AFFORGEN cycle and were instrumental in developing attack leaders and deploying combat AirPower.

“Our most recent deployment was an operationally challenging one,” said Chapman. “I'm proud of the ops and the maintenance team for stepping up to meet those challenges, which ultimately protected coalition lives during a very turbulent time in the Middle East.”

As part of the inactivation, assignment teams will work with pilots and maintainers to determine new assignments based on what is best for each member’s career development, to include transitioning to different weapons systems.

[Note from the Curator: The mustache decal on the nose of this Warthawg is a Pedros (pararescue jumpers) designation. That means during its deployments it worked with ground forces during CSAR missions.]

[usafphantom2]

345 days left in uniform... Part 2

If you haven't read Part 1 yet, go back and start there-- the story makes a lot more sense... X just doesn't give us the capacity to write novels on here.

----------------------------------------------------------

Epilogue

Sandy, Earned.

Nellis Air Force Base, 2008

My fingers dug into the skin on either side of the bridge of my nose, trying to rub the stinging from my eyes as they again stared in disbelief at the lying hands of my wristwatch. Dammit it’s late. One a.m. and we were just about to get started with the debrief. We probably had a good four or five hours ahead of us of attacking and rehashing the lessons with our students. We called them WUGS, short for Weapons UpGrade Students. I guess technically “upgrade” isn’t the two words that we assign via the multi-placed acronym, but then again someone would’ve probably disallowed the calling of the students WUS’s. Such is life.

I had stood in their exact shoes five years previously, sweating through every briefing, flight, and excruciating debrief of the six-month Weapons Instructor Course. It was a different perspective, being the one holding the spotlight instead of trying to survive the effects of its ubiquitous shining. My time at Nellis was growing shorter, and this would be my final class before moving on to attend a professional military education course. For the students, the light at the end of the tunnel was beginning to catch their eyes, but they still had to finish the CSAR phase of training.

I don’t think I’d have wanted to be a student under the scenarios that we came up with as we both attempted to impart lessons from the 2005 rescue and recovery into the syllabus training. We spoofed them, placed survivors in between enemy gun emplacements, provided survivors who had been captured but managed to escape during someone else’s rescue, created propaganda videos and doctored Al Jazeera newspapers that taunted the Sandys. There was even a scenario where one survivor was snatched from right beneath Sandy One by an “enemy” helicopter. Never having even considered such a situation, the young Sandy One floundered and attempted to use low passes around the adversary helicopter to convince them to “give up” their prize of an American aviator. We laughed about some of the “solutions”, but quickly turned the debrief as deadly serious as we could possibly make it. “So, if you knew for a fact that the enemy would murder that survivor, and broadcast his violent execution on every website and television station that would air it, would you take action while he was still on the helicopter?” They’d look at us blankly for a moment. “I’m saying, would you shoot him down? If he’s as good as dead, would you allow the enemy the propaganda victory of humiliating him in the way they want to? Would you spare his family the fate of having to potentially witness that?” They couldn’t believe we’d ask such a question. The empty stares would continue, or they’d search their scribbled notes for answers that weren’t there. They’d even try to turn the question back at us--hell, I don’t know, what would you do? the implication being that since we had asked the question, we must have an answer or some semblance of the reply that we instructors expected from our students. We’d return their gazes and admit that we didn’t have the answers either. Occasionally, the students would drop their pencils in exasperation and frustration, and in no-uncertain terms inform us that our queries were bullshit. We’d nod and acknowledge the difficulty in addressing a damned-near impossible situation--certainly one in which there was no correct answer, but only ones that attempted to mitigate associated losses. As they’d cross their arms and glare at us, we’d try to explain that the true lesson was not in the selection of an answer, but in the thought process to attain a solution. However, to glean these lessons, we had to be willing to ask the impossible questions and consider the unthinkable. We had to explore the haunting options that we hoped we never had to confront in combat, because to leave them unanswered in peacetime left us without sufficient resources in battle. I didn’t want to face situations for the first time under fire, but hoped that I had at least considered the possibilities beforehand. I want to think that we gave those students a few more keys than had been given to us; not in any way a backhanded compliment to the outstanding instructors who taught us. Combat has a nasty way of showing you the scenarios you never had the ability to comprehend, much less train to. I had thought that our instructors had thrown every trick in the inventory at us in 2003. I knew we could never impart every imaginable contingency to these young men, each of whom would be shortly leading squadrons into battle as the respective Chief of Weapons and Tactics, but we hoped that we could give them the opportunity how to learn to out-think, out-plan, and out-maneuver an adaptive, elusive, and deadly enemy.

I turned back to my own scribblings as the students hurriedly placed the final touches on their own notes and reconstruction of the training sortie we had just flown. The late-night hour blurred my vision as I again tried to rub away the dryness creeping into exhausted eyes. With my eyes closed, the rushed whispers of the WUGS masked the entry of the other pilots gathering for the debrief. We referred to them as adversaries, but they had flown alongside our WUGS tonight as Sandys in their own right, a handful of young pilots from the 74th and 75th Fighter Squadrons, flying the same airplanes we had thrown into Red Wings a few years previously. Some of these promising young pilots would make their way through this course in the years following my departure. The voice of one of these men snapped me from my own thoughts.

“Hey Zero, before we begin, I just wanted to introduce myself--I thought you’d want to know that this is your Sandy patch I’m wearing.” My eyes had caught his gaze, and I quickly slid them to the patch on his left shoulder. The patch there was certainly one of the handful of patches I had designed over the years--a conglomeration of ideas that had existed on several patches dating back to the original Sandy designs put forth in the Vietnam War. Those Sandy patches featured a simple outline of an A-1 embossed over flames being forced downward from the front of the aircraft. Some proclaimed “Super Spad: Sandy!” while others simply stated, “Sandy.” The aviators of the time delineated the rankings of the Sandy from the Sandy Ones on these patches, and the design transformed along with the A-10’s adoption of the mission. Over time, the Sandy patch of choice, the patch that I had lost nearly eight years earlier, had featured a close up an A-10, the word SANDY, and the phrase, “so others may live.” On one of my first Friday nights in the 75th, my commander poked me in the patch and said, “You know, that phrase is incorrect. It’s supposed to read, ‘that others may live.’” With this heritage and ideas in mind, I crafted a new series of patches; ones that continued to differentiate between a Sandy and a Sandy One and carried the historical references to the original designs, with versions that were also produced in subdued desert colors. We had made a big deal out of handing out the patches to our new Sandys and Sandy Ones at our first Roll Call following the Atlantic Rescue exercise in 2004, and it was with a humbling sense of pride that I saw the patches continue to populate the community and adorn the shoulders of the A-10 pilots that made their way through the Trough. I recognized the patch as one that I had designed, but didn’t realize that he was speaking to the history of this particular patch until he continued.

“This is the same patch you gave Stroker a few years ago, and he gave it me when I became a Sandy. He said I had to know the history of the patch and pass it on.” He laughed as he looked up, “I’d hate to be the guy who has to know its lineage years from now--I only have to remember a couple of names!” I smiled in relation to the story, but my mind had already drifted off to the Officer’s Club in Korea… back to the expectant gaze of a Weapons Officer throwing down the gauntlet of a challenge to the punk wingman still licking his wounds at the bar from the shots received earlier in the evening. I didn’t think that this moment even came close to making up for that single lost patch, but I believed that I had given something back.

My eyes drifted back to the patch on this pilot’s arm and remembered the days when that same piece of cloth had proclaimed my own membership among the ranks of the men and women entrusted with that precious call sign. Locking onto the letters adorning the top of the patch, I began to wonder less about the history of that collection of stitching and velcro than about its future. How many young pilots would pass that from one to another? Which Sandys would pass that amongst themselves as they welcomed a brother to the fold? I briefly found myself hoping that no Sandy would endure the disappointment at losing something so simply constructed, yet so meaningful in incalculable value, but quickly returned to the considerable prospects ahead. I looked at the patch for one more moment.

That others may live!

Sandy One.

I thought about the next Sandys, and the Sandys holding the line outside of the insulated training environment I had been living and flying in for the last three years. I thought that for all the tricks and curveballs we threw at our students, for the countless hours spent planning missions and explaining techniques, for the unholy but invaluable debriefs that lasted until the sun had already began its ascent once more, we were merely forging the Sandy iron into the steel we hoped to deploy wherever it might be needed. The foundation of the mission rested in the hands of the operational guys that we didn’t get nearly as much visibility on out at Nellis--the line pilots shouldering their deployment burdens and rotating back and forth to the sandbox.

And I found myself missing the line… missing the operational times and the instructing of the young pilots. Although we came up with (or tried to, at least) the toughest scenarios that a Sandy One could face, we didn’t pass down Sandy patches, nor did we hand them out for the first time. We had passed that responsibility off to the next generation of young Sandys, and from the looks of it, they had accepted that responsibility heartily. I again thought to this patch’s future, and smiled at the thought of the next Sandy to earn it--to trade his “Sandy” for a “Sandy One.”

It’s just a call sign, right?

Were we not effective with the Boar, Hog, or any other call sign that was written into the air tasking order? Was there a requirement to fly as Sandy? After all, what is that but a momentary transmission or frequencies solely designed to identify the speaker? How quickly the mind returns to the secondary battles simmering while the primary rages before you. I realize that they could have slapped a demeaning handle on our flights and we would have accomplished the mission all the same. The missions over the Korengal in 2005 did little to prove any “earning” of the Sandy call sign. Our little victories of switching to the call sign under the cover of secure frequencies were of little consequence to the overall war effort, but spoke to our devotion to the title and its historical significance as it was passed down to us.

It’s just a call sign, right? So why not let us fly with it?

Those battles raging on the periphery of importance faded to the relegated files of memory that they deserved to be stored in. The CAOC could have told me to fly as Pinkwing and I would have flown with the same ferocity. Tell me to refer to myself as Boar, Hog, Cherry, or any other moniker, and I’ll accomplish the Sandy mission when there’s a comrade to be brought home, regardless of what name is carried over those radio frequencies. It will matter little, and time will quickly erase the consideration (and possibly the argument). The next generation will care little about whether we flew as Boar or Hog, but will ask repeatedly to hear the stories, hoping to glean the techniques they may be called upon to use someday. The battles waged against our own forces become the humorous anecdotes that keep the banter lively, and leave the young pilots shaking their heads at the ludicrousness of what our “leaders” and staffers feel is important in the conduct of combat operations. We bring our glasses to our lips as we quell the laughter and refresh our spirits, only to return to the deadly seriousness of the mission.

“There I was bro, no kidding. I don’t know how I got under those clouds and into the valley, but you should have seen what this bastard pulled off,” as you poke your brother-in-arms as he smiles sheepishly and continues to pass the story…

“Ah hell bro, that wasn’t nothin’. You’d have done it better--I just got lucky is all.” And the banter would continue long into the night, with the young pilots hanging on the words of their older comrades, just as we had done nine years before. The tests of combat that every veteran wonders about before the exam comes to pass, and the young ears that strained to unlock the lessons before their own opportunities confronted them.

Behind me, the WUGS began to finalize their preparations for the debrief and made their one-minute announcement. The time for random musings and the philosophical reinvention of history was pushed aside, and I turned back to my notes and continued rubbing my stinging eyes. On the top of the lineup card that we carried in the cockpit, I saw it again:

Sandy.

Just a call sign, right?

Damn right. But whether you’re allowed to use it or just ask for it in combat, it remains a call sign that still must be earned. I took one more glance around the room and noticed again that every young pilot supporting our training was wearing a Sandy patch of some flavor or design. Each one proclaimed himself as having earned that coveted title. I nodded to myself, smiled, and turned back to the mission at hand.

An entire room full of Sandys.

Sandy, earned.

---------------------------------

"Attention Cobras! There are 345 service days remaining... secure your lights and rooms please!"

@thundercrate6 via X

[soup-mother]

pssst no one is forcing you to spell it like "csar" or "czar", it looks silly