• The KillerFrogs

Army Navy Thread

Bob Sugar

Active Member
I'm sure you're asking the right man if it's good or not
I Guess If You Say So GIF
 

Mean Purple

Active Member
Good movie and good book…



Go Army!

Good article on ODA 595. About midway on down, you see how risky the mission was. But that's why they send SF.

“For all of our teams, the risk was extraordinary,” Mulholland said. “If they got in trouble, there was very little I could do and nothing I could do quickly. We accepted a huge amount of risk.”

"There were no geographical limitations, he said. If Dostum wanted to march on Kabul, the Americans would join them."

 

BrewingFrog

Was I supposed to type something here?
That’s cool. Know if it’s any good?
Yes. Very! I have another bottle arriving (hopefully) today of the Barrel Strength.

Really good distillate, really good cooperage, doesn't try to be anything but excellent hooch. I ordered some a few years ago when the guys themselves were on the FOX Business show 'Kennedy' to pitch their product. I was not at all disappointed! Since then, it's my fancy hooch when entertaining, because not all guests to Rancho Brewingfrog like hoity-toity rhums...
 

Mean Purple

Active Member
Yes. Very! I have another bottle arriving (hopefully) today of the Barrel Strength.

Really good distillate, really good cooperage, doesn't try to be anything but excellent hooch. I ordered some a few years ago when the guys themselves were on the FOX Business show 'Kennedy' to pitch their product. I was not at all disappointed! Since then, it's my fancy hooch when entertaining, because not all guests to Rancho Brewingfrog like hoity-toity rhums...
Will be getting a bottle via a friend now for this Saturday. He already had a stash.
Go Army, Beat Navy!
 

Hoosierfrog

Tier 1
Good article on ODA 595. About midway on down, you see how risky the mission was. But that's why they send SF.

“For all of our teams, the risk was extraordinary,” Mulholland said. “If they got in trouble, there was very little I could do and nothing I could do quickly. We accepted a huge amount of risk.”

"There were no geographical limitations, he said. If Dostum wanted to march on Kabul, the Americans would join them."

First guys on the ground after 9/11, amazing story.
 

BrewingFrog

Was I supposed to type something here?
Will be getting a bottle via a friend now for this Saturday. He already had a stash.
Go Army, Beat Navy!
So, a little story...

Early this year, Mrs. Brewingfrog and I were invited out to a "military event" at a hunting lease some 30 miles from Rancho Brewingfrog. The fellow inviting us is normally vague about things to the point of annoyance, so we really had no idea of what to expect, but we were encouraged to bring booze and guns. So, we did.

In addition to my fine Daniel Defense toys, I tucked a bottle of Horse Soldier into the F250. We drove out to the middle of nowhere, and took a left into the brush for a few miles, and wound up at a hunting camp surrounded by trucks and a few cars. As we pulled up, a monstrous -THUMP- sounded off from across the small huddle of buildings that made up the camp. We got out of the truck to find out what was what, and the -THUMP- came again.

"What the hell is that?" asked my bewildered wife.
"A big rifle. Big!"

We walked around into the courtyard of the complex, and were greeted by a host of Recon Marines. The "event" was an annual reunion of a Recon Brigade, and it was truly all that one could imagine from such a gathering. My wife and I were the only ones not wearing a weapon, and we quickly remedied the lack of a drink that everyone else had by being pointed in the direction of the ice chests full of beers. Our host, who had invited us but not really filled us in, quickly introduced us to the Gunny, who, even though retired, seemed to run everything, He bade us sit and we spoke of many things. The big -THUMP- came again, and my wife asked the Gunny, "What is that?"

"Oh, there's a Barret .50 over there on the range," he said, waving his hand towards a tower made of old telephone poles. "They've put together a real nice range, and the snipers are over there showing off."

I had to see this. I left my wife in the care of the Gunny (She poured him a nice drink. He took a shine to her.), and headed over to the range to see what toys were in use.

The Barret .50 is loud. Oh yes, it is indeed loud. But it is the sheer force of the charge propelling that big bullet that hits you like a punch to the chest. I was told that there were several Class III outfits that brought toys for all the boys to play with, in addition to some custom ammo guys who brought things that went 'bang' to put in them. All the boys were right pleased with this surfeit of ordnance, and had a fine time thwacking the iron gongs at 500+yards. One fellow, wearing a t-shirt reading "INSTRUCTOR" was silently and carefully aiming a very expensive .308 rig with an absurdly large Trijicon optic downrange. He was motionless for a short time, and then his rifle sounded. There was another long pause as the gathered group waited, then, "PING" from far, far off. Much hooting and shouting commenced. The shooter was smiling pretty wide. "What distance?" I asked.

"1500 yards!"

The gong was 12" in diameter. Holy crap!

Anyway, the booze: While I was out at the range, our host came bustling up and, knowing my penchant for exotic and oddball finds, asked what was in the brown paper bag. "Horse Soldier Bourbon."

"Horse Soldier? Never heard of it!"

It was about this time I came wandering back to the table. I told them about the fellows who distilled the stuff, and how the name came about. The Marines were wholly unimpressed. "Army hooch, huh." Of course, this did not stop them from sticking glasses out in front of me to be filled. As they drank, there was more grumbling, "Well, it isn't bad for Army..." The glasses all got stuck out again for refills...
 

TCURiggs

Active Member
So, a little story...

Early this year, Mrs. Brewingfrog and I were invited out to a "military event" at a hunting lease some 30 miles from Rancho Brewingfrog. The fellow inviting us is normally vague about things to the point of annoyance, so we really had no idea of what to expect, but we were encouraged to bring booze and guns. So, we did.

In addition to my fine Daniel Defense toys, I tucked a bottle of Horse Soldier into the F250. We drove out to the middle of nowhere, and took a left into the brush for a few miles, and wound up at a hunting camp surrounded by trucks and a few cars. As we pulled up, a monstrous -THUMP- sounded off from across the small huddle of buildings that made up the camp. We got out of the truck to find out what was what, and the -THUMP- came again.

"What the hell is that?" asked my bewildered wife.
"A big rifle. Big!"

We walked around into the courtyard of the complex, and were greeted by a host of Recon Marines. The "event" was an annual reunion of a Recon Brigade, and it was truly all that one could imagine from such a gathering. My wife and I were the only ones not wearing a weapon, and we quickly remedied the lack of a drink that everyone else had by being pointed in the direction of the ice chests full of beers. Our host, who had invited us but not really filled us in, quickly introduced us to the Gunny, who, even though retired, seemed to run everything, He bade us sit and we spoke of many things. The big -THUMP- came again, and my wife asked the Gunny, "What is that?"

"Oh, there's a Barret .50 over there on the range," he said, waving his hand towards a tower made of old telephone poles. "They've put together a real nice range, and the snipers are over there showing off."

I had to see this. I left my wife in the care of the Gunny (She poured him a nice drink. He took a shine to her.), and headed over to the range to see what toys were in use.

The Barret .50 is loud. Oh yes, it is indeed loud. But it is the sheer force of the charge propelling that big bullet that hits you like a punch to the chest. I was told that there were several Class III outfits that brought toys for all the boys to play with, in addition to some custom ammo guys who brought things that went 'bang' to put in them. All the boys were right pleased with this surfeit of ordnance, and had a fine time thwacking the iron gongs at 500+yards. One fellow, wearing a t-shirt reading "INSTRUCTOR" was silently and carefully aiming a very expensive .308 rig with an absurdly large Trijicon optic downrange. He was motionless for a short time, and then his rifle sounded. There was another long pause as the gathered group waited, then, "PING" from far, far off. Much hooting and shouting commenced. The shooter was smiling pretty wide. "What distance?" I asked.

"1500 yards!"

The gong was 12" in diameter. Holy crap!

Anyway, the booze: While I was out at the range, our host came bustling up and, knowing my penchant for exotic and oddball finds, asked what was in the brown paper bag. "Horse Soldier Bourbon."

"Horse Soldier? Never heard of it!"

It was about this time I came wandering back to the table. I told them about the fellows who distilled the stuff, and how the name came about. The Marines were wholly unimpressed. "Army hooch, huh." Of course, this did not stop them from sticking glasses out in front of me to be filled. As they drank, there was more grumbling, "Well, it isn't bad for Army..." The glasses all got stuck out again for refills...

200.gif
 
Top