Thursday, August 24, 2006


As Gord mentioned the other day on one of my 'Daily Dave' posts, there's an Air Force weenie running to unseat the aptly-named Rep. John Doolittle. Lt. Col. Charlie Brown also has a son serving in Iraq*, co-pilot of an AF C-130.


Of course, this member of the delegation was John Doolittle. John sat down in the cockpit and spoke for a minute with the aircraft commander. He didn't say anything to the rest of the crew. Nothing to the flight engineer. Or the navigator. Or the copilot. He didn't ask any of them where they were from. Or what it's like in Iraq. Or what he and the rest of Congress could do to help.


The copilot was my son, Jeff Brown, Air Force Captain.

John Doolittle sat next to my son for over an hour and didn't ask him his name. He didn't ask him where he was from. (Jeff, of course, is from John's District here in California.) He didn't ask how long Jeff had been in Iraq. (It was Jeff's third tour, and he's now scheduled for his fourth.) And he didn't ask what Congress could do to help him and the rest of the troops there in Iraq.

But I've asked. And Jeff told me, that if John had asked what he needed, he would have asked to make sure Congress fixes the cracks in the C-130 wings, because many of the aircraft are grounded, and many more are restricted on how much weight they can carry, and they're flying the heck out of those planes. Jeff would have asked to make sure Congress gives good medical care to the wounded, because he flies them out of Iraq. And Jeff said he would have asked to make sure Congress gives the best care to the families of the remains of fallen soldiers, because he flies them out of Iraq too.


The Rethugs consider our soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines as equipment. When they can't perform, they are thrown away. They use our troops as props on campaign stops. The Rethugs have no respect for our men and women in uniform and only see them as a means to an end.

Charlie Brown for Congress

Do you live in CA-04?

*Great thanks to Carnacki at Skippy's.

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