Honor the Threat in General

Honor the Threat

I was talking with dad this afternoon and he regaled me with a story where he, as a flight engineer on C-123s was allowed to ride in the navigator seat in a B-52 flight from Kincheloe AFB in Michigan to Barksdale AFB in Louisiana.

The whole conversation started because of the discomfort of being strapped into an ejection seat.

Imagine sitting on the most uncomfortable chair in your house, And then being tied to it four, six, eight, ten hours.

I can’t sit for more than a half hour. I can’t stand for more than a half hour. Dad says I should make a VA claim. If it gets bad enough, maybe. Someday.

I can’t remember how, but the idea of “Honor the Threat” came up.

It is how you approach things, especially in combat. Always assume the worst possible outcome.

In my jet we always briefed, that in the event that we ever encountered a MIG, we would fire the AGM-88 anti-comp, blow the stores, roll inverted and pull toward the ground. Then push the stick forward to zero g. And fucking run away. Nobody could catch us going downhill.

They have to honor the threat. They have no idea that the thousand pound missile coming off the rails is incapable of actually tracking an airborne target. But they don’t know. They have to honor the threat.

It keeps coming back. The lesson of “Honor the Threat.”

All Syrian refugees are not terrorists. Yet they don’t really add anything my country or my life. I am not responsible for their fucked up country. And I don’t want to have to sort through which ones the US government has seeded into the small towns in Maine to try to figure out which ones are going to try to kill someone I love.

Thus I honor the threat.

Last updated December 07, 2016