Army

Soldiers are pushing the M7 through real field conditions, and the rifle is changing fast because the people who carry it refuse to accept anything less than combat ready performance.

November has repeatedly served as war’s decision month, delivering hinge battles from El Alamein and Guadalcanal to the Somme and Fallujah that either broke enemy momentum or forced conflicts into their endgame.

A new three star just walked into the USASOC hangar, grabbed the colors, and took charge of America’s shadow army at the exact moment the world is begging for harder and smarter answers.

The U.S. military is using cheap Chinese-made drones as live targets in Florida to give troops realistic counter-drone training and speed up new technology development.

Atlas Lion showed that AI can replace a crowd of observer controllers and still give commanders a sharper, doctrine-based read on how ready their Civil Affairs teams are for large-scale combat.

On Veterans Day I carry my grandfathers’ quiet courage with me—a reminder that the Greatest Generation’s faith in duty, sacrifice and simple decency is not a relic of the past but a living call we must answer every day.

The battlefield is about to drown in cheap, buzzing machines, and the Army is betting its future on swarms that die by the dozen so soldiers don’t have to.

In the harsh neon glow of a Kansas hotel room, a 28-year-old Guardsman inked a “covert relationship” with ghosts he thought were Russian agents, pocketed cash, snapped pics of Fort Riley, and tried to mail an American helicopter radio to Russia—only to learn later the feds were the ones writing the script.

On a moonlit run into North Vietnam on November 21, 1970, Bull Simons and 56 Green Berets hit Son Tay with surgical violence, found the cells empty, and left the nearby Secondary School littered with bodies that looked a lot more like Chinese advisors than local NVA, a truth the official record preferred to bury.

A former Army HUMINT team leader who treated Top Secret access like a ticket to Beijing now has four years to think about the keys he tried to hand a hostile service.

Back home I kept checking my watch as if Iraq still owned my hours, wrestling to set down anger and pride so I could ask the only question that matters: what moral ground must we stand on before we spend blood again.

He didn’t chase glory; he ran toward gunfire because that’s where his brothers were, and that’s where duty called.