Category: American Badass

American Badass: John Stark

Today I want to talk about a serious badass that gets so little attention its a shame:  John Stark.  I know this is long, but it’s such an awesome story that I really couldn’t make it any shorter.  Obviously I fill in my own interpretation of how the events unfolded, but it’s 97.6% fact…

Ass kicker from the beginning

The first story that makes it into the history books about John Stark happened when he was 24 years old.  John and his buddies were on a hunting trip in some Indian lands and the Abenaki warriors got pissed about white guys killing on their lands, so they attacked.  John basically sacrifices himself, saving his brother, and gets captured with another guy.  The Indians are pissed, so they make John and his friend run the gauntlet.  I don’t mean the figurative gauntlet, I mean the real life, run between dudes with bats and shit and try and live to the end stuff of horror movies gauntlet.  John wasn’t having any of their bullshit.

He ran up to the first guy, took the fucking bat from his hands and started beating the crap out of this Abenaki warrior.  Before anyone even knew what was happening, the Abenaki chief was like, “hold up this dude is a BAMF!”  He made John Stark an honorary member of the tribe.

Rogers’ Rangers

I expect anyone with a Ranger Tab has heard of Rogers’ Rangers.  These were the sickest bunch of dudes in the era of musket warfare.  They pretty much invented the raid and were equally deadly in swamps as they were in snowy mountains.  Rogers’ merry band of misfits inflicted terror in the hearts of the French in the 1700’s.  When everyone else was walking in massive easy target formations, Rogers’ group was using cover and concealment and killing the enemy in droves.  John Stark was a Lieutenant with this group where he learned that there’s no such thing as a dirty fight, only those you win or lose.

It was St.Patty’s day 1757 at Fort William Henry.  The mostly Irish troops stationed there decided to get totally blasted as the Irish typically do on this particular holiday.  Stark however, knew he was at war and didn’t let his men drink, which probably pissed a lot of dudes off.  It was almost as if Stark was in the heads of the French because they attacked once they figured everyone in the fort would be good and wasted.  While everyone else was stumbling over their own dicks and puking in the corner, Stark’s men were steely eyed, ready, and better trained than the attacking force.  They kicked ass, defended the fort, and sent the French packing, tail tucked between their legs.

Once the war was over, John got the 1750’s version of a DD-214 and went home to get married and make a bunch of babies.

American Revolution

In April 1775, the famous battles of Lexington and Concord took place. When the news made it to New Hampshire, Stark was like “fuck it, let’s do this” and put on his uniform, hopped on his horse and headed towards the fight (I bet his wife was pissed BTW).  He only stopped to tell the rest of the militia members to get their shit and join him, leaving notes on the doors of the guys that weren’t there because he wasn’t about to wait.

Stark immediately marched into the heart of the war in Boston to help the rebels at Bunker Hill.  When he showed up the Americans were digging in when one of the positions started to get hit by naval artillery.  Led by a new 2LT no doubt, a unit had set up on Breed’s hill within range of the British guns.

John Stark asked where he should set up, but General Prescott was like, “dude, I don’t know, wherever you think is best.”  He also asked who was in command of the British forces and when he found out it was Howe, he knew exactly what to do.  Stark and Howe had been junior officers together in the French and Indian war.

So Stark goes all Nostradamus like he did with the French and picks the exact place that the Brits are going to attack. He knew Howe would try the flank, and spotted the best position.  He has his men put up some some obstacles and a hasty defense, and walks out and places a stake in the sand of the beach.

It wasn’t long before Howe lands and his men begin to advance.  As the first line of British reach the stake in the sand,  out of nowhere, the New Hampshire Militia pop out from behind cover, with the British no more than 50 feet away, and fire in unison, decimating the line.  The second line of British troops, knowing how long it takes to reload a musket (particularly untrained militia), hop over the bodies of their buddies and double time it towards the rebel position.  Stark had anticipated this and had set up a second line of men who didn’t fire at the first and unloaded on the second group, slaughtering them too.  Then a third line came charging, faster, but there was a third line of rebels, who send a third volley ripping through the British regulars.  Finally the charge came from the King’s guard, tripping over bodies, these highly trained troops certainly didn’t expect the first group to already be loaded when they stood up from behind their cover and sent a fourth, morale crippling death blast to the face.  In just a few seconds, over 90 British soldiers lay dead in the sand and their brothers broke rank and retreated.

Howe found another place to land where Stark wasn’t, and basically charged up the Hill dead on against Prescott in a head-on frontal attack.  He eventually succeeded in  overwhelming the defenses at Bunker Hill.  Stark wasn’t finished with them though.  When Stark noticed that the Americans were going to retreat, he covered them in a tactical retreat bounding backwards breaking contact straight into the annals of the FM 7-8.

The British later commented that they couldn’t afford another costly victory like that, or the war would soon be over.

Trenton

You know that famous image of Washington crossing the Delaware river?

Well, John Stark was there for that one too.  Washington made a winter crossing on Christmas day, took the British completely by surprise, and beat the shit out of them at Trenton.  I had always remarked how out of character it was for Washington to do such a brazen act.  Low on ammunition, out of food and water, men freezing to death and walking out on him, and he decides to attack?  Let’s face it, Washington was a pretty stand up guy, but he really wasn’t a master general.  Stark on the other hand…

You won’t find this in any history book, but I think that river crossing was Stark’s idea.  Let’s face it: Washington was getting his ass kicked all up and down New England, then not long after John Stark shows up he gets some crazy idea to surprise the Brits and beats them in Trenton and Princeton?  Yeah, seems like Stark to me.

Ticonderoga

John Stark fought for a while with Washington, then found out he wasn’t selected for General while on a recruiting mission in New Hampshire and a couple shit-bags had been promoted ahead of him instead.  Since he wasn’t having any of the political bullshit, he decided he would stay in New Hampshire and told the rebel command that the next threat would come from Canada and he’d get back into the fight when that happened…and of course it did.

So the Rebel commander in Fort Ticonderoga ran out of supplies and had to bug out.  British General John Burgoyne followed with his troops and sent some German Hessians ahead (about 800 of them).  John Stark was like, “oh hell no dude” and dispatched his men to stop the advance.

There was a quick firefight in the morning and the Germans retreated into a fortified position and requested reinforcements.  Stark decided to break their will and sent his troops to both flanks and attacked from the front.  There was a heavy rain to mask troop movements, and by the time the Germans realized what was going on, they were already surrounded and getting pounded by musket fire.

Then more British reinforcements arrived.

Did seeing these fresh new soldiers deter John Stark?  Fuck no.  Stark saw this and yelled, “We’ll beat them before night or Molly Stark’s a widow!”  Fuck Yes.  They attacked harder and beat the shit out of those guys too…before dark.

Once the battle was over, more than 200 British were dead and about 700 wounded and captured (compared to less than 100 losses on Stark’s side).  The British also didn’t get the supplies they were looking for, their morale was broken, their will was decimated; it was a crushing and brutal defeat.

Many called it the turning point in the revolutionary war.  So basically, America exits because of this brilliant badass.

Once the war was over, and independence was won, all these rebel generals were vying for political positions.  John Stark didn’t play that shit, so he went home and lived his life in private.

Oh, one more thing, he’s the guy who gave New Hampshire their motto:

“Live Free or Die.  Death is not the worst of Evils.”

 

-LJF

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American Badass: Harriet Tubman

The news about Harriet Tubman replacing Andrew Jackson on the $20 bill has brought one of my favorite Americans into the limelight.  Although I’m glad Americans are showing a fleeting interest in history, the white-washed version we got in school doesn’t necessarily highlight what a badass Mrs. Tubman actually was, so i’m going to attempt to send you back a hundred and sixty years to get a feel for what level of sacrifice she actually made…

Your heart is beating furiously in your chest as you suck in huge gulps of the cool and humid night air.  Your feet ache from the pounding of the branches as you run as fast as you can through the woods.  Scratches on your face and neck begin to sting as the sweat pools inside them.  You ran this way to draw the dogs away from your family.  Now you hear them in the distance, closing in on you.  The barking of the hounds makes you think of what they will do if they catch you, and the mere thought of it brings lucid memories and the scars on your back seem to burn once again like fresh wounds.  It pushes you to run harder into the darkness.

The light of the moon and the north star are all you have to guide you, but the tough wooden terrain is slowing you down, and the dogs are only getting closer.  You feel a sense of dread and nervousness, helplessness begins to overcome you and tears well in your eyes.  Fighting back the emotions makes running even more difficult; if they catch you this time, they will surely kill you.  You imagine your little child growing up without you and how someone will have to explain to her that you are never coming back; the thought gives you new determination.

As you hop over a log into a small break in the woods you glance up at the night sky and immediately spot the north star.  The beautiful star that means freedom, that means you will hold your baby one more time and sleep without worry that someone will come for you.  Just like that star, however, freedom feels unreachable, and now you can hear the men’s voices and the hounds.  It seems that no matter how hard you push, they keep closing in, and then you remember a special tip they had given you, “you’ll never beat the dogs, gotta beat the handler instead.”  You spring into action, running left, then right, then back, forward, in a circle, and back to your original position.  “That should make him think the dog has lost the scent,” you think to yourself and take off smiling to your rendezvous.

Exhausted, you reach a trail cutting through the  woods and see “Moses”.  She is standing with a small group, putting them into a cart, a pistol in one hand, your baby in the other.  You let out a sigh of relief and hop out of the trees onto the trail.  Moses spins on a dime and you’re face to face with her, staring right into the barrel of her pistol.  There’s a moment as you stare into her eyes that you realize why she never loses a passenger.  There is no hesitation, remorse, or fear, she is focused, determined, and steely-eyed.  “Get in,” Harriet’s words signify the end of your enslavement as you take your baby in your arms.

Harriet was dubbed the “Moses” of the underground railroad and had a perfect record of never losing a soul in her many trips out of slave states.  She knew the terrain, moved like a ghost in the woods, mentally strong, and physically tough, always ready to defend herself and her passengers with deadly force if necessary.

“There was one of two things I had a right to:  Liberty or Death; if I could not have one, I would have the other.”

If I could sum up what the essence of being an American is, I would say “liberty or death.”  We churn out the toughest motherfuckers on the planet because we are willing to fight and die free men before we will live long lives as slaves.  Mrs. Tubman is, in my opinion, part of an elite few that through their example we can learn what freedom really is.

She didn’t only fight to free slaves in the underground railroad though, she was also a union soldier.  Oh yes!  She led a group of long range scouts in South Carolina, feeding key terrain characteristics and intelligence to union generals.  I want you to fully understand the badassery of that.  She was a black woman leading a small band of men through the heart of the deep south.  The fact that a non-white was leading troops, and even more so that she was a woman, is a testament to her great skill!

 

When the war was over, she joined yet another movement and fought for the right of women to vote.

Look, here is a woman that was born a slave, escaped several times, helped others escape, led men in battle fighting for her freedom, then fought peacefully for her right to vote.  She started at nothing and is a century later a household name.

Given the choice between a slave owning president who grew the federal government and the moses of the underground railroad…well, this here Cuban-American would be honored to carry around a reminder of American grit in my wallet!

Harriet Tubman $20 bill

LJF

 

 


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American Badass: Frederick Douglass

Although Frederick Douglass is a common name during black history month, so few people really know his amazing story.

BLUF: He was a BAMF- Bad Ass Mother Fucker.  Seriously.

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Douglass wrote three autobiographies in his life.  Each one gives a little more insight into his journey than the previous, and his escape only told by the third, AFTER slaves were freed.  He explicitly says that he isn’t going to delve into those details in case someone else wants to use his method.  You need to read these books, you just do.

 

When he was a child, Douglass’ mistress started to teach him to read since she saw him as a little boy, when his master found out he was furious.  Here is how Douglass recounts the story:

“‘If you give a nigger an inch, he will take an ell. A nigger should know nothing but to obey his master-to do as he is told to do.  Learning would spoil the best nigger in the world.  Now,’ said he, ‘if you teach that nigger (speaking of myself) how to read, there would be no keeping him.  It would forever unfit him to be a slave.  He would at once become unmanageable, and of no good value to his master.  As to himself, it could do him no good, but a great deal of harm.  It would make him discontented and unhappy.’ These words sank deep into my heart, stirred up sentiments within that lay slumbering, and called into existence an entirely new train of thought.  It was a new and special revelation, explaining dark and mysterious things, with which my youthful understanding had struggled, but struggled in vain.  I now understood what had been to me a most perplexing difficulty-to wit, the white man’s power to enslave the black man.  It was a grand achievement, and I prized it highly.  From that moment, I understood the pathway from slavery to freedom. […] Though conscious of the difficulty of learning without a teacher, I set out with high hope, and a fixed purpose, at whatever cost of trouble, to learn how to read.The very decided manner with which he spoke, and strove to impress his wife with the evil consequences of giving me instruction, served to convince me that he was deeply sensible of the truths he was uttering. It gave me the best assurance that I might rely with the utmost confidence on the results which, he said, would flow from teaching me to read.  What he most loved, that I most hated. That which to him was a great evil, to be carefully shunned, was to me a great good, to be diligently sought; and the argument which he so warmly urged, against my learning to read, only served to inspire me with a desire and determination to learn.”

Damn!  Knowledge really is power, this was true in the 19th century and remains true in the 21st.

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Later, as he grew older and unruly, he was sent to a man made famous for breaking tough slaves.  He had almost won, and as Douglass was beginning to break, something snapped.  He fought back.  He and Mr. Covey fought for nearly two hours, and Douglass walked away the victor.  He decided at that moment that he would never let another white man beat him.

Do you understand what that means?  He decided that he would always fight back, welcoming death into his life as a walking companion always ready to strike.  That takes some serious fucking balls.

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Later in life, before earning his freedom, he was working on a ship when an argument ensued with one of the white sailors.  The two begin to fight, and in a flash, Douglass is fighting the entire crew as they try and take him down.  He describes in vivid detail the boot that hit his face knocking him unconscious and leaving a prominent scar on his face for the rest of his life.

He didn’t just have a mean left hook, he was also an intellectual heavyweight.  His amazing writing and speaking skills earned him a meeting with Abraham Lincoln.  Refusing to be starstruck, Douglass told Lincoln exactly what he thought about the constitution and Lincoln’s pandering to slave owners, and eventually was a key player in getting Lincoln to become an abolitionist.

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I’ve always regarded Douglass as a personal hero.  He fought evil intellectually, but understood that sometimes we need to sacrifice our body and live out our principles in action. I’ve seen many people talk a big game that they can’t back up.  Douglass feared no man, nor death.  He was a man of principle, and someone we should all be willing to emulate.

Like I said, BAMF.

-LJF