Wednesday, December 04, 2013
The Hunt for Red October (1990)
http://www.divxmoviesenglishsubtitles.com/D/Dr_Strangelove.html
Dr Strangelove
Excuse me, sir. Something rather|interesting has just cropped up.
Listen to that. Music.|Civilian broadcasting.
I think the Pentagon has given us|an exercise to check our readiness.
I think it's taking things too far.
Our fellows will be inside Russian|radar cover in about 20 minutes.
Listen. Chock full of stations|all churning it out.
- Mandrake?|- Yes, sir?
I issued instructions for all radios|to be impounded.
Search text for: neptune
Zero results.
http://www.e-reading.co.uk/bookreader.php/1016709/Clancy_-_the_Hunt_for_Red_October.html
The Hunt For Red October
Tom Clancy
http://www.divxmoviesenglishsubtitles.com/H/Hunt_For_Red_October_CD1.html
Hunt For Red October [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
Give me a stopwatch and a map,
and I'll fly the Alps
in a plane with no windows.
If the map is accurate enough.
We're in the lane and approaching first turn.
Come left to course 1-9-5.
In 30 seconds,
decrease depth to 200 meters.
Maintain speed.
Very good, Navigator.
Captain, we're approaching the first turn.
25 seconds to course 1-9-5.
Increase speed to 26 knots and recompute.
Aye, Captain.
Navigator, recompute for 26 knots.
Turn on my mark.
5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
Mark.
Diving control, come left to 1-9-5.
Come left to 1-9-5.
Up on the bow planes.
Course now 1-9-5
and maintaining speed 26 knots.
Mr. Kamarov?
Next leg, Captain,
come right to course 2-4-0 now at...
8 minutes and 40 seconds.
Very good. Maintain course and speed.
Too fast, Vasily.
Too fast.
Those charts are laid out precisely...
so many knots for so many seconds.
And this thing handles like a pig.
Watch your bearing, Mr. Slavin.
15 seconds to turn, Captain.
Should we decrease speed?
Negative.
Prepare to come right.
Aye, sir.
8...
7...
6...
5...
4...
3...
2...
1...Mark.
15 degrees down angle on the bow planes.
Come right 2-4-0.
Move it!
We're in the lane.
Next leg 34 minutes to the Neptune Massif.
http://www.divxmoviesenglishsubtitles.com/H/Hunt_For_Red_October_CD1.html
Hunt For Red October [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
Your government should consider
that having your ships and ours,
your aircraft and ours,
in such proximity is inherently dangerous.
Wars have begun that way, Mr. Ambassador.
We have lost one of our submarines.
Lost it?
We fear she may be down, and...
this is most embarrassing, but...
several of the officers are sons of...
high party officials.
One is even the son
of a Central Committee member.
I cannot say which.
You're telling me this is a massive rescue operation?
That is correct.
I'm terribly sorry.
How can we help?
I'm not sure that...
Perhaps a joint rescue mission?
That is very gracious of you, sir.
I'll pass your offer on.
But at this time,
I think we're doing everything
that can be done.
Captain?
Our strategy depends on your answer.
The entire fleet will know where we are.
Captain, Sonar.
We've been overflown by a multi-engine turboprop.
Put it on audio.
Short transients, close aboard.
Water entry of small objects.
Sonar buoys.
Battle stations.
Battle stations!
Battle stations!
Battle stations!
How long to Neptune Massif?
http://www.divxmoviesenglishsubtitles.com/H/Hunt_For_Red_October_CD1.html
Hunt For Red October [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
Very good. Maintain course and speed.
Too fast, Vasily.
Too fast.
Those charts are laid out precisely...
so many knots for so many seconds.
And this thing handles like a pig.
http://navysite.de/cg/cg28.htm
USS Wainwright (CG 28)
USS WAINWRIGHT was the third ship in the BELKNAP-class of guided missile cruisers
WAINWRIGHT was last homeported in Charleston, SC.
Accidents aboard USS WAINWRIGHT:
March 14, 1979 Charleston Harbor, South Carolina USS WAINWRIGHT runs aground for six hours in Charleston Harbor, SC
http://www.divxmoviesenglishsubtitles.com/H/Hunt_For_Red_October_CD1.html
Hunt For Red October [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
He'll get us all killed.
The captain knows what he's doing.
Doctor.
Naval activities?
I have no knowledge of this.
But then, I never was a sailor.
Mr. Ambassador,
you have nearly 100 vessels operating
in the North Atlantic right now.
Your aircraft have dropped enough sonar buoys
that a man could walk from Greenland to Scotland
without getting his feet wet.
Shall we dispense with the bull?
http://www.e-reading.co.uk/bookreader.php/1016709/Clancy_-_the_Hunt_for_Red_October.html
The Hunt For Red October
Tom Clancy
Chapter 2.
THE SECOND DAY
SATURDAY, 4 DECEMBER
The Red October
In the control room Ramius mused. "I wonder if any American submarines are about?"
"Indeed, Comrade Captain," nodded Captain Second Rank Borodin, who had the watch. "Shall we engage the caterpillar?"
"Proceed, Comrade."
"Engines all stop," Borodin ordered.
"All stop." The quartermaster, a starshina (petty officer), dialed the annunciator to the STOP position. An instant later the order was confirmed by the inner dial, and a few seconds after that the dull rumble of the engines died away.
Borodin picked up the phone and punched the button for engineering. "Comrade Chief Engineer, prepare to engage the caterpillar."
It wasn't the official name for the new drive system. It had no name as such, just a project number. The nickname caterpillar had been given it by a young engineer who had been involved in the sub's development. Neither Ramius nor Borodin knew why, but as often happens with such names, it had stuck.
http://www.e-reading.co.uk/bookreader.php/1016709/Clancy_-_the_Hunt_for_Red_October.html
The Hunt For Red October
Tom Clancy
Chapter 6.
THE SIXTH DAY
WEDNESDAY, 8 DECEMBER
CIA Headquarters
CARDINAL's job was necessarily as secret as his name. A senior adviser and confidant of a Politburo member, CARDINAL often acted as his representative within the Soviet military establishment. He thus had access to political and military intelligence of the highest order. This made his information extraordinarily valuable--and, paradoxically, highly suspect. Those few experienced CIA case officers who knew of him found it impossible to believe that he had not been "turned" somewhere along the line by one of the thousands of KGB counterintelligence officers whose sole duty it is to watch everyone and everything. For this reason CARDINAL-coded material was generally cross-checked against the reports of other spies and sources. But he had outlived many small-fry agents.
The name CARDINAL was known in Washington only to the top three CIA executives. On the first day of each month a new code name was chosen for his data, a name made known only to the highest echelon of CIA officers and analysts. This month it was WILLOW. Before being passed on, grudgingly, to outsiders, CARDINAL data was laundered as carefully as Mafia income to disguise its source. There were also a number of security measures that protected the agent and were unique to him. For fear of cryptographic exposure of his identity, CARDINAL material was hand delivered, never transmitted by radio or landline. CARDINAL himself was a very careful man--Penkovskiy's fate had taught him that. His information was conveyed through a series of intermediaries to the chief of the CIA's Moscow station. He had outlived twelve station chiefs; one of these, a retired field officer, had a brother who was a Jesuit. Every morning the priest, an instructor in philosophy and theology at Fordham University in New York, said mass for the safety and the soul of a man whose name he would never know. It was as good an explanation as any for CARDINAL's continued survival.
Four separate times he had been offered extraction from the Soviet Union. Each time he had refused. To some this was proof that he'd been turned, but to others it was proof that like most successful agents CARDINAL was a man driven by something he alone knew--and therefore, like most successful agents, he was probably a little crazy.
The document Ryan was reading had been in transit for twenty hours. It had taken five for the film to reach the American embassy in Moscow, where it was delivered at once to the station chief. An experienced field officer and former reporter for the New York Times, he worked under the cover of press attache. He developed the film himself in his private darkroom. Thirty minutes after its arrival, he inspected the five exposed frames through a magnifying glass and sent a FLASH-priority dispatch to Washington saying that a CARDINAL signal was en route. Next he transcribed the message from the film to flash paper on his own portable typewriter, translating from the Russian as he went. This security measure erased both the agent's handwriting and, by the paraphrasing automatic to translation, any personal peculiarities of his language.
http://www.e-reading.co.uk/bookreader.php/1016709/Clancy_-_the_Hunt_for_Red_October.html
The Hunt For Red October
Tom Clancy
Chapter 1.
THE FIRST DAY
FRIDAY, 3 DECEMBER
The Red October
Putin shifted on his feet. Perhaps he was feeling the cold.
"Those American 688-class submarines, Ivan, the Los Angeleses. Remember what one of their officers told our spy? That they could sneak up on a whale and bugger it before it knew they were there? I wonder how the KGB got that bit of information. A beautiful Soviet agent, trained in the ways of the decadent West, too skinny, the way the imperialists like their women, blond hair..." The captain grunted amusement. "Probably the American officer was a boastful boy, trying to find a way to do something similar to our agent, no? And feeling his liquor, like most sailors. Still. The American Los Angeles class, and the new British Trafalgars, those we must guard against. They are a threat to us."
"The Americans are good technicians, Comrade Captain," Putin said, "but they are not giants. Their technology is not so awesome. Nasha lutcha," he concluded. Ours is better.
Ramius nodded thoughtfully, thinking to himself that zampoliti really ought to know something about the ships they supervised, as mandated by Party doctrine.
1993 film "Philadelphia Experiment II" DVD video:
00:19:50
David Herdeg: Where you driving to, kid?
http://www.script-o-rama.com/movie_scripts/t/time-machine-script-transcript-wells.html
The Time Machine
Only children are frightened
by the dark.
You are a child, aren't you?
- I'll light a fire.
- Please, let us go.
My machine is inside.
I must find a way to get it out.
- No, you mustn't.
- Help me gather some wood.
That's a girl.
Where are you from?
As a matter of fact,
I'm from right here.
That's where my house used to be...
...many thousands of years ago.
You see there?
Up to those panels was my laboratory.
Beyond them was where
my garden used to be.
Right there.
That was my library.
Where I once sat
talking with friends about...
...the time machine.
You know, Weena...
...I'd hoped to learn
such a great deal.
http://www.online-literature.com/crane/redbadge
THE LITERATURE NETWORK
Stephen Crane
The Red Badge of Courage
http://www.online-literature.com/crane/redbadge/20/
THE LITERATURE NETWORK
Literature Network » Stephen Crane » The Red Badge of Courage » Chapter 19
Chapter 19
As they halted thus the lieutenant again began to bellow profanely. Regardless of the vindictive threats of the bullets, he went about coaxing, berating, and bedamning. His lips, that were habitually in a soft and childlike curve, were now writhed into unholy contortions. He swore by all possible deities.
Once he grabbed the youth by the arm. "Come on, yeh lunkhead!" he roared. "Come one! We'll all git killed if we stay here. We've on'y got t' go across that lot. An' then"--the remainder of his idea disappeared in a blue haze of curses.
The youth stretched forth his arm. "Cross there?" His mouth was puckered in doubt and awe.
"Certainly. Jest 'cross th' lot! We can't stay here," screamed the lieutenant. He poked his face close to the youth and waved his bandaged hand. "Come on!" Presently he grappled with him as if for a wrestling bout. It was as if he planned to drag the youth by the ear on to the assault.
The private felt a sudden unspeakable indignation against his officer. He wrenched fiercely and shook him off.
"Come on yerself, then," he yelled. There was a bitter challenge in his voice.
They galloped together down the regimental front. The friend scrambled after them. In front of the colors the three men began to bawl: "Come on! come on!" They danced and gyrated like tortured savages.
The flag, obedient to these appeals, bended its glittering form and swept toward them. The men wavered in indecision for a moment, and then with a long, wailful cry the dilapidated regiment surged forward and began its new journey.
Over the field went the scurrying mass. It was a handful of men splattered into the faces of the enemy. Toward it instantly sprang the yellow tongues. A vast quantity of blue smoke hung before them. A mighty banging made ears valueless.
The youth ran like a madman to reach the woods before a bullet could discover him. He ducked his head low, like a football player. In his haste his eyes almost closed, and the scene was a wild blur. Pulsating saliva stood at the corners of his mouth.
Within him, as he hurled himself forward, was born a love, a despairing fondness for this flag which was near him. It was a creation of beauty and invulnerability. It was a goddess, radiant, that bended its form with an imperious gesture to him. It was a woman, red and white, hating and loving, that called him with the voice of his hopes. Because no harm could come to it he endowed it with power. He kept near, as if it could be a saver of lives, and an imploring cry went from his mind.
In the mad scramble he was aware that the color sergeant flinched suddenly, as if struck by a bludgeon. He faltered, and then became motionless, save for his quivering knees. He made a spring and a clutch at the pole. At the same instant his friend grabbed it from the other side. They jerked at it, stout and furious, but the color sergeant was dead, and the corpse would not relinquish its trust. For a moment there was a grim encounter. The dead man, swinging with bended back, seemed to be obstinately tugging, in ludicrous and awful ways, for the possession of the flag.
It was past in an instant of time. They wrenched the flag furiously from the dead man, and, as they turned again, the corpse swayed forward with bowed head. One arm swung high, and the curved hand fell with heavy protest on the friend's unheeding shoulder.
http://www.e-reading.org.ua/bookreader.php/80261/King_-_The_Stand.html
Stephen King
The Stand - The Complete & Uncut Edition [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
Chapter 17
“—Lion, Team Lion, do you read, Blue Base? Can you read? One… two… three… four… this is Team Lion—”
“I’ve got you, Team Lion,” Starkey said. “This is Blue Base One.”
“Problem is coded Flowerpot in the Contingency Book,” the tinny voice said. “Repeat, Flowerpot.”
“I know what the fuck Flowerpot is,” Starkey said. “What’s the situation?”
The tinny voice coming from Sipe Springs talked uninterrupted for almost five minutes. The situation itself was unimportant, Starkey thought, because the computer had informed him two days ago that just this sort of situation (in some shape or form) was apt to occur before the end of June. 88% probability. The specifics didn’t matter. If it had two legs and belt-loops, it was a pair of pants. Never mind the color.
A doctor in Sipe Springs had made some good guesses, and a pair of reporters for a Houston daily had linked what was happening in Sipe Springs with what had already happened in Arnette, Verona, Commerce City, and a town called Polliston, Kansas. Those were the towns where the problem had gotten so bad so fast that the army had been sent in to quarantine. The computer had a list of twenty-five other towns in ten states where traces of Blue were beginning to show up.
The Sipe Springs situation wasn’t important because it wasn’t unique. They’d had their chance at unique in Arnette—well, maybe—and flubbed it. What was important was that the “situation” was finally going to see print on something besides yellow military flimsy; was, anyway, unless Starkey took steps. He hadn’t decided whether to do that or not. But when the tinny voice stopped talking, Starkey realized that he had made the decision after all. He had perhaps made it as long as twenty years ago.
It came down to what was important. And what was important wasn’t the fact of the disease; it wasn’t the fact that Atlanta’s integrity had somehow been breached and they were going to have to switch the whole preventative operation to much less satisfactory facilities in Stovington, Vermont; it wasn’t the fact that Blue spread in such sneaky common-cold disguise.
“What is important—”
“Say again, Blue Base One,” the voice said anxiously. “We did not copy.”
What was important was that a regrettable incident had occurred.
http://www.e-reading.co.uk/bookreader.php/1016709/Clancy_-_the_Hunt_for_Red_October.html
The Hunt For Red October
Tom Clancy
Chapter 14.
THE FOURTEENTH DAY
THURSDAY, 16 DECEMBER
The Red October
"Comrades. Officers and men of Red October, this is the captain speaking." Ramius' voice was subdued, the crewmen noticed. The incipient panic that had started a few hours earlier had driven them to the brittle edge of riot. "Efforts to repair our engines have failed. Our batteries are nearly flat. We are too far from Cuba for help, and we cannot expect help from the Rodina. We do not have enough electrical power even to operate our environmental control systems for more than a few hours. We have no choice, we must abandon ship.
"It is no accident that an American ship is now close to us, offering what they call assistance. I will tell you what has happened, comrades. An imperialist spy has sabotaged our ship, and somehow they knew what our orders were. They were waiting for us, comrades, waiting and hoping to get their dirty hands on our ship. They will not. The crew will be taken off. They will not get our Red October!
http://history.state.gov/historicaldocuments/frus1964-68v14/d26
U.S. DEPARTMENT OF STATE
OFFICE of the HISTORIAN
Khrushchev has also shown a penchant for clever stratagems designed to entrap and confuse opponents and to increase pressures on them to grant concessions. His exploitation of the U–2 incident was intended to produce a storm of protests against US policy and to embarrass President Eisenhower on the eve of the Paris summit conference. Khrushchev confined his initial announcement of the shoot-down to bare details and then sat back to await the expected disavowal from Washington. After the US issued the cover story of a missing NASA research U–2, Khrushchev announced that he had withheld information that the pilot and aircraft were in Soviet hands, “because had we told everything at once, the Americans would have invented another version; just look how many silly things they have said.”
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0028264/releaseinfo
IMdb
Sky Parade (1936)
Release Info
USA 19 April 1936 (New York City, New York)
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1385857.Red_Storm_Rising
goodreads
Red Storm Rising
by Tom Clancy
Hardcover, 656 pages
Published August 7th 1986
http://www.e-reading.org.ua/bookreader.php/79701/Clancy_-_Red_Storm_Rising.txt
Tom Clancy
Red Storm Rising
40 – The Killing Ground
"The only thing that worries me is they might try that drone crap again," Jacobsen murmured.
"It worked once," Toland agreed. "But we didn't have them this far out before."
The Tomcats divided into four-plane divisions, each controlled by radar. They, too, had been briefed about the drones that had fooled Nimitz. The fighters kept their radars off until they were within fifty miles of their targets, then used the radars to locate targets for their on-board TV systems.
"Hawk-Blue-Four," one called. "Tallyho, I got eyeballs on a Backfire. Engaging now. Out."
The Russian plan of attack had anticipated that the American fighters would try to bum through the jamming aircraft to the north, then be caught off balance by the appearance of the Backfires to the east. But the jammers were gone, and the Backfires did not yet have the American carrier fleet on radar and could not launch their missiles on the basis of hours-old satellite photographs. Neither could they run away. The supersonic Russian bombers went to afterburner and activated their radars in a contest with time, distance, and American interceptors.
Again it was like watching a video game. The symbols designating the Backfires changed as the planes switched on their own protective jammers. The jamming reduced the effectiveness of the Phoenix missiles, but Russian losses were already serious. The Backfires were three hundred miles away. Their radars had an effective range of only half that, and already fighters swarmed over their formations. "Tallyho" calls cluttered the radio circuits as the Tomcats converged to engage the Russian bombers, and the ^ symbols started dropping off the radar screens. The Backfires closed at seventeen miles per minute, their radars searching desperately for the American fleet.
"Going to get some leakers," Toland said.
"Six or eight," Jacobsen agreed.
"Figure three missiles each."
By now the Tomcats had fired all of their missiles, and drew off for the Hornets to join the action with Sparrows and Sidewinders. It wasn't easy for the fighters to keep up with their targets. The Backfires, speed made for difficult pursuit curves, and the fighters were notoriously short on fuel. Their missiles continued to score, however, and no amount of jinking and jamming could defeat all of them. Finally one aircraft got a surface radar contact and radioed a position. The seven remaining Backfires fired their missiles and turned north at Mach 2. Three more fell to missiles before the fighters had to turn away.
Again the Vampire call came in, and again Toland cringed. Twenty incoming missiles were plotted. The formation activated jammers and SAM systems, with a pair of Aegis cruisers on the threat axis. In seconds they were launching missiles, and the other SM2-equipped SAM ships added their own missiles to the "basket," allowing their birds to be guided by the Aegis computer systems. The twenty incoming missiles had ninety SM2s targeted on them. Only three got through the SAM cloud, and only one of them headed for a carrier. America's three point-defense guns tracked the AS-6 and destroyed it a thousand feet from the ship. The other two missiles both found the cruiser Wainwright and exploded her four miles from Independence.
"Damn." Jacobsen's face took a hard set. "I thought we had that one beat.
http://www.usswainwright.org/shipInfoCg-28.html
USS WAINWRIGHT
Veterans Association
USS Wainwright CG-28
1975 - 1993
1987: 9/87; Wainwright operates in NATO exercise OCEAN SAFARI 87, North Atlantic
1988: 1/88; Departed Charleston as lead ship of Middle East Force 1-88. 2/88: entered Persian Gulf with Samuel. B. Roberts, Jack Williams, Simpson. Wainwright served as command ship. Samuel B. Roberts hits a mine. 4/88; Operation Praying Mantis, Wainwright, Simpson & Bagley destroy SIRRI gas-oil separation platform with naval gunfire. Same ships sank Iranian gunboat JOSHAN with missile and gunfire attacks after unsuccessful missile attack on Wainwright. Then Wainwright fired long range missiles on an Iranian F-4 Phantom for a kill.
1989: 4-6/89; Operation Checkmate, Caribbean sea law enforcement operations. 9/89; in port Charleston for hurricane Hugo rebuilding and repairs. 10/89; Departed Charleston for Med 1-90.
1990 film "The Hunt for Red October" DVD video:
01:09:58
Distraught Soviet crewman of Red October: Captain, they're really shooting at us! Why?
Red October Executive Officer Vasili Borodin: Easy boy. If they were really shooting at us we'd be dead by now.
http://articles.latimes.com/2003/feb/01/nation/na-briefs1.2
Los Angeles Times
Astronauts Prepare for Return to Earth
The Nation IN BRIEF / IN SPACE
February 01, 2003 From Times Wire Reports
Shuttle Columbia astronauts spent their final day in space stowing gear and checking flight control systems in preparation for their expected return to Earth today.
Weather forecasters predicted clear skies and light winds at Kennedy Space Center in Florida, where the shuttle will attempt to land at 6:16 a.m. PST, said a NASA official.
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: Thursday, October 09, 2008 Posted by H.V.O.M at 2:07 PM
I remember well that day 2/1/2002. I was riding my bicycle from Bellevue, Washington, along the regular route I followed to the office I worked at in the Microsoft building in Issaquah, Washington. I was crossing a small bridge next to the Costco building in Issaquah and within sight of the Microsoft building when my bicycle literally flipped end-over-end and I went face first into the concrete sidewalk. I was left sprawled out on my back on the sidewalk among the wooded area of that bridge and dazed for a few minutes. I got up after a few minutes and rode my bicycle the remaining mile or so to the office and noticed a short time later that I had a black eye forming from where my left eye brow seemed to have hit the concrete just before my helmet absorbed the rest of the impact which was painful in itself to my head. I would later think that someone had caused that accident to happen and that it was something similar to that scene in the 1963 film "The Great Escape" where Steve McQueen stretches the thin wire across the road to knock the German soldier off his motorcycle.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 09 October 2008 excerpt ends]
From 9/26/1960 ( premiere US TV series "The Blue Angels" ) To 1/24/1985 ( the United States Navy submarine warship USS George Washington SSN 598 formerly SSBN 598 decommissioned from United States Navy active service - my biological brother United States Navy Fleet Admiral Thomas Reagan serving as General of the Armies of the United States is the final commanding officer of USS George Washington SSN 598 the active fleet platform ) is 8886 days
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 3/2/1990 ( premiere US film "The Hunt for Red October" ) is 8886 days
From 4/18/1988 ( the United States Navy Operation Praying Mantis - my biological brother US Navy Fleet Admiral Thomas Reagan and I US Navy FC2 Kerry Wayne Burgess are both at the same time onboard the United States Navy warship USS Wainwright CG 28 when it evaded a Harpoon anti-ship missile from hostile Iran-Bill Gates-Microsoft-George Bush-Axis of Evil-Soviet Union-Communist forces but 2 United States Marine Corps aviators launched from USS Wainwright CG 28 killed this day ) To 3/2/1990 ( premiere US film "The Hunt for Red October" ) is 683 days
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 9/16/1967 ( premiere US TV series "Mannix" ) is 683 days
From 8/22/1939 ( premiere US film "Fugitive at Large" ) To 4/18/1988 ( the United States Navy Operation Praying Mantis - my biological brother US Navy Fleet Admiral Thomas Reagan and I US Navy FC2 Kerry Wayne Burgess are both at the same time onboard the United States Navy warship USS Wainwright CG 28 when it evaded a Harpoon anti-ship missile from hostile Iran-Bill Gates-Microsoft-George Bush-Axis of Evil-Soviet Union-Communist forces but 2 United States Marine Corps aviators launched from USS Wainwright CG 28 killed this day ) is 17772 days
17772 = 8886 + 8886
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 3/2/1990 ( premiere US film "The Hunt for Red October" ) is 8886 days
From 11/21/1940 ( premiere US film "Give Us Wings" ) To 7/19/1989 ( Bill Gates-Microsoft-George Bush kills 111 passengers and crew of United Airlines Flight 232 and destroys the United Airlines Flight 232 aircraft because I was a passenger of United Airlines Flight 232 as United States Navy Petty Officer Second Class Kerry Wayne Burgess and I was assigned to maintain custody of a non-violent offender military prisoner of the United States ) is 17772 days
17772 = 8886 + 8886
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 3/2/1990 ( premiere US film "The Hunt for Red October" ) is 8886 days
From 4/20/1949 ( premiere US film "A Yank Comes Back" ) To 3/2/1990 ( premiere US film "The Hunt for Red October" ) is 14926 days
14926 = 7463 + 7463
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 4/9/1986 ( --- ) is 7463 days
From 4/19/1936 ( premiere US film "Sky Parade" ) To 8/17/1960 ( premiere US film "The Time Machine" ) is 8886 days
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 3/2/1990 ( premiere US film "The Hunt for Red October" ) is 8886 days
From 4/19/1936 ( premiere US film "Sky Parade" ) To 8/17/1960 ( the Soviet Union trial of the United States Central Intelligence Agency pilot Gary Powers begins in Moscow Russia Soviet Union ) is 8886 days
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 3/2/1990 ( premiere US film "The Hunt for Red October" ) is 8886 days
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099810/releaseinfo
IMDb
The Hunt for Red October (1990)
Release Info
USA 2 March 1990
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099810/fullcredits
IMDb
The Hunt for Red October (1990)
Full Cast & Crew
Sean Connery ... Marko Ramius
Alec Baldwin ... Jack Ryan
http://www.e-reading.co.uk/bookreader.php/1016709/Clancy_-_the_Hunt_for_Red_October.html
The Hunt For Red October
Tom Clancy
Chapter 3.
THE THIRD DAY
SUNDAY, 5 DECEMBER
The Red October
Even as the boy was grappling with his first doubts about his country, no one could have suspected it. Like all Soviet children, Ramius joined the Little Octobrists, then the Young Pioneers. He paraded at the requisite battle shrines in polished boots and blood-red scarf, and gravely stood watch over the remains of some unknown soldier while clasping to his chest a deactivated PPSh submachinegun, his back ramrod straight before the eternal flame. The solemnity of such duty was no accident. As a boy Marko was certain that the brave men whose graves he guarded so intensely had met their fates with the same sort of selfless heroism that he saw portrayed in endless war movies at the local cinema. They had fought the hated Germans to protect the women and children and old people behind the lines. And like a nobleman's son of an earlier Russia, he took special pride in being the son of a Party chieftain. The Party, he heard a hundred times before he was five, was the Soul of the People; the unity of Party, People, and Nation was the holy trinity of the Soviet Union, albeit with one segment more important than the others. His father fit easily into the cinematic image of a Party apparatchik. Stern but fair, to Marko he was a frequently absent, gruffly kind man who brought his son what presents he could and saw to it that he had all the advantages the son of a Party secretary was entitled to.
Although outwardly he was the model Soviet child, inwardly he wondered why what he learned from his father and in school conflicted with the other lessons of his youth. Why did some parents refuse to let their children play with him? Why when he passed them did his classmates whisper "stukach," the cruel and bitter epithet of informer? His father and the Party taught that informing was an act of patriotism, but for having done it once he was shunned. He resented the taunts of his boyhood peers, but he never once complained to his father, knowing that this would be an evil thing to do.
Something was very wrong--but what? He decided that he had to find the answers for himself. By choice Marko became individual in his thinking, and so unknowingly committed the gravest sin in the Communist pantheon. Outwardly the model of a Party member's son, he played the game carefully and according to all the rules. He did his duty for all Party organizations, and was always the first to volunteer for the menial tasks allotted to children aspiring to Party membership, which he knew was the only path to success or even comfort in the Soviet Union. He became good at sports. Not team sports--he worked at track and field events in which he could compete as an individual and measure the performance of others. Over the years he learned to do the same in all of his endeavors, to watch and judge the actions of his fellow citizens and officers with cool detachment, behind a blank face that concealed his conclusions.
In the summer of his eighth year the course of his life was forever changed. When no one would play with "the little stukach," he would wander down to the fishing docks of the small village where his grandmother had made her home. A ragtag collection of old wooden boats sailed each morning, always behind a screen of patrol boats manned by MGB--as the KGB was then known--border guards, to reap a modest harvest from the Gulf of Finland. Their catch supplemented the local diet with needed protein and provided a minuscule income for the fishermen. One boat captain was old Sasha. An officer in the czar's navy, he had revolted with the crew of the cruiser Avrora, helping to spark the chain of events that changed the face of the world. Marko did not learn until many years later that the crewmen of the Avrora had broken with Lenin--and been savagely put down by Red Guards. Sasha had spent twenty years in labor camps for his part in that collective indiscretion and only been released at the beginning of the Great Patriotic War. The Rodina had found herself in need of experienced seamen to pilot ships into the ports of Murmansk and Archangel, to which the Allies were bringing weapons, food, and the sundries that allow a modern army to function. Sasha had learned his lesson in the gulag: he did his duty efficiently and well, asking for nothing in return. After the war he'd been given a kind of freedom for his services, the right to perform back-breaking work under perpetual suspicion.
By the time Marko met him, Sasha was over sixty, a nearly bald man with ropy old muscles, a seaman's eye, and a talent for stories that left the youngster wide-eyed. He'd been a midshipman under the famous Admiral Marakov at Port Arthur in 1906. Probably the finest seaman in Russian history, Marakov's reputation as a patriot and an innovative fighting sailor was sufficiently unblemished that a Communist government would eventually see fit to name a missile cruiser in his memory. At first wary of the boy's reputation, Sasha saw something in him that others missed. The boy without friends and the sailor without a family became comrades. Sasha spent hours telling and retelling the tale of how he had been on the admiral's flagship, the Petropavlovsk, and participated in the one Russian victory over the hated Japanese--only to have his battleship sunk and his admiral killed by a mine while returning to port. After this Sasha had led his seamen as naval infantry, winning three decorations for courage under fire. This experience--he waggled his finger seriously at the boy--taught him of the mindless corruption of the czarist regime and convinced him to join one of the first naval soviets when such action meant certain death at the hands of the czar's secret police, the okhrana. He told his own version of the October Revolution from the thrilling perspective of an eyewitness. But Sasha was very careful to leave the later parts out.
He allowed Marko to sail with him and taught him the fundamentals of seamanship that decided a boy not yet nine that his destiny lay on the sea. There was a freedom at sea he could never have on land. There was a romance about it that touched the man growing within the boy. There were also dangers, but in a summer-long series of simple, effective lessons, Sasha taught the boy that preparation, knowledge, and discipline can deal with any form of danger; that danger confronted properly is not something a man must fear. In later years Marko would reflect often on the value this summer had held for him, and wonder just how far Sasha's career might have led if other events had not cut it short.
Marko told his father about Sasha towards the end of that long Baltic summer and even took him to meet the old seadog. The elder Ramius was sufficiently impressed with him and what he had done for his son that he arranged for Sasha to have command of a newer, larger boat and moved him up on the list for a new apartment. Marko almost believed that the Party could do a good deed--that he himself had done his first manly good deed. But old Sasha died the following winter, and the good deed came to nothing. Many years later Marko realized that he hadn't known his friend's last name. Even after years of faithful service to the Rodina, Sasha had been an unperson.
http://www.tv.com/shows/the-blue-angels/angel-on-trial-177652/
tv.com
The Blue Angels Season 1 Episode 1
Angel On Trial
Aired Unknown Sep 26, 1960 on
AIRED: 9/26/60
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0032533/releaseinfo
IMDb
Give Us Wings (1940)
Release Info
USA 21 November 1940 (New York City, New York) (premiere)
http://www.divxmoviesenglishsubtitles.com/H/Hunt_For_Red_October_CD1.html
Hunt For Red October
[ DVD: Ramius buckles and tightens seat belt ]
Should we decrease speed?
Negative.
Prepare to come right.
Aye, sir.
8...
7...
6...
5...
4...
3...
2...
1...Mark.
15 degrees down angle on the bow planes.
Come right 2-4-0.
Move it!
We're in the lane.
Next leg 34 minutes to the Neptune Massif.
Course 2-4-0.
What happened?
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0031352/releaseinfo
IMDb
Fugitive at Large (1939)
Release Info
USA 22 August 1939 (premiere)
http://www.divxmoviesenglishsubtitles.com/H/Hunt_For_Red_October_CD1.html
Hunt For Red October
...Armageddon.
And the seventh angel poured forth his bowl
into the air,
and a voice cried out from heaven, saying,
"It is done".
A man with your responsibilities
reading about the end of the world. Huh.
And what's this?
"I am become death,
the destroyer of worlds".
It is an ancient Hindu text
quoted by an American.
American?
Mmm. He invented the atomic bomb,
and he was later accused of being a Communist.
You wrote and underlined these passages?
No.
This book belonged to my wife.
I keep it for sentimental value.
I'm sorry, comrade Captain.
Your wife was... a beautiful woman.
Her death was... unfortunate.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0341114/releaseinfo
IMDb
A Yank Comes Back (1949)
Release Info
USA 20 April 1949 (New York City, New York)
http://www.e-reading.org.ua/bookreader.php/80261/King_-_The_Stand.html
Stephen King
The Stand - The Complete & Uncut Edition
Chapter 17
What was important was that the “situation” was finally going to see print on something besides yellow military flimsy; was, anyway, unless Starkey took steps. He hadn’t decided whether to do that or not. But when the tinny voice stopped talking, Starkey realized that he had made the decision after all. He had perhaps made it as long as twenty years ago.
http://www.divxmoviesenglishsubtitles.com/H/Hunt_For_Red_October_CD1.html
Hunt For Red October
Where I'm going...
you cannot follow.
Dr Petrov, report to my cabin immediately.
There's been a dreadful accident.
http://www.cswap.com/1990/The_Hunt_for_Red_October/cap/en/12_Parts/e/00_53
The Hunt for Red October
:53:01
- What's his plan?
- His plan?
:53:04
Russians don't take a dump
without a plan.
:53:08
Senior captains are sure
to have thought the matter through.
:53:12
- He's just going to sail into New York?
- It might be that simple.
:53:17
Things might be simple [ in a cubicle ] at CIA
:53:20
But in the middle of the North Atlantic
they get a bit more complex
http://www.divxmoviesenglishsubtitles.com/T/Time_Machine_The.html
Time Machine The [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
Don't you have a single romantic bone in your body?
No. I'm all bowler hat.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0066206/quotes
IMDb
The Internet Movie Database
Memorable quotes for
Patton (1970)
Patton: [Bradley frowns as Patton pins on his new stars] What's the matter, Brad? I've been nominated by the president.
General Omar N. Bradley: I know... but it doesn't become official until it's been approved by the Senate.
Patton: Well, they have their schedule and I have mine.
General Omar N. Bradley: [smiles wryly] George, I think if you were named Admiral of the Turkish navy, your aides could dip into their haversacks and come up with the appropriate badges of rank. Anyway, congratulations, George...
[extends his hand, then pulls it back]
General Omar N. Bradley: *premature* congratulations.
[shakes Patton's hand]
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099810/quotes
IMDb
The Hunt for Red October (1990)
Quotes
Captain Ramius: You're afraid of our fleet. Well, you should be. Personally, I'd give us one chance in three. More tea anyone?
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099810/quotes
IMDb
The Internet Movie Database
Memorable quotes for
The Hunt for Red October (1990)
Jeffrey Pelt: You slammed the door on the General pretty hard, didn't you?
Jack Ryan: That was not my intention.
Jeffrey Pelt: Oh, yes, it was! He was patronizing you, and you stomped on him! And in my opinion, he deserved it!
http://www.e-reading.co.uk/bookreader.php/1016709/Clancy_-_the_Hunt_for_Red_October.html
The Hunt For Red October
Tom Clancy
Chapter 7
"Why the uniform?"
"Not my idea, Admiral. You know who I work for, right? They figured I'd be less conspicuous this way."
"At least it fits." The admiral lifted a phone and ordered refreshments sent to them. "How's the family, Jack?"
"Fine, thank you, sir. The day before I came over Cathy and Toni were playing over at Nigel Ford's place. I missed it. You know, if they get much better, we ought to have a record cut. There aren't too many violin players better than your wife."
A steward arrived with a plateful of sandwiches. Jack had never figured out the British taste for cucumbers on bread.
"So, what's the flap?"
"Admiral, the significance of the message you just gave me is that I can tell this to you and three other officers. This is very hot stuff, sir. You'll want to make your choices accordingly."
"Hot enough to turn my little fleet around." White thought it over before lifting the phone and ordering three of his officers to the cabin. He hung up. "Captain Carstairs, Captain Hunter, and Commander Barclay--they are, respectively, Invincible's commanding officer, my fleet operations officer, and my fleet intelligence officer."
"No chief of staff?"
"Flew home, death in the family. Something for your coffee?" White extracted what looked like a brandy bottle from a desk drawer.
"Thank you, Admiral." He was grateful for the brandy. The coffee needed the help. He watched the admiral pour a generous amount, perhaps with the ulterior motive of making him speak more freely. White had been a British sailor longer than he'd been Ryan's friend.
The three officers arrived together, two carrying folding metal chairs.
"Admiral," Ryan began, "you might want to leave that bottle out. After you hear this story, we might all need a drink." He passed out his two remaining briefing folders and talked from memory. His delivery took fifteen minutes.
"Gentlemen," he concluded, "I must insist that this information be kept strictly confidential. For the moment no one outside this room may learn it."
"That is too bad," Carstairs said. "This makes for a bloody good sea story."
"And our mission?" White was holding the photographs. He poured Ryan another shot of brandy, gave the bottle a brief look, then stowed it back in the desk.
"Thank you, Admiral. For the moment our mission is to locate Red October. After that we're not sure. I imagine just locating her will be hard enough."
"An astute observation, Commander Ryan," Hunter said.
"The good news is that Admiral Painter has requested that CINCLANT assign you control of several U.S. Navy vessels, probably three 1052-class frigates, and a pair of FFG Perrys. They all carry a chopper or two."
"Well, Geoffrey?" White asked.
"It's a start," Hunter agreed.
"They'll be arriving in a day or two. Admiral Painter asked me to express his confidence in your group and its personnel."
"A whole fucking Russian missile submarine..." Barclay said almost to himself. Ryan laughed.
"Like the idea, Commander?" At least he had one convert.
"What if the sub is heading for the U.K.? Does it then become a British operation?" Barclay asked pointedly.
"I suppose it would, but from the way I read the map, if Ramius was heading for England, he'd already be there. I saw a copy of the president's letter to the prime minister. In return for your assistance, the Royal Navy gets the same access to the data we develop as our guys get. We're on the same side, gentlemen. The question is, can we do it?"
"Hunter?" the admiral asked.
"If this intelligence is correct...I'd say we have a good chance, perhaps as good as fifty percent. On one hand, we have a missile submarine attempting to evade detection. On the other, we have a great deal of ASW arrayed to locate her, and she will be heading towards one of only a few discrete locations. Norfolk, of course, Newport, Groton, King's Bay, Port Everglades, Charleston. A civilian port such as New York is less likely, I think. The problem is, what with Ivan sending all his Alfas racing to your coast, they will get there ahead of October. They may have a specific port target in mind. We'll know that in another day. So, I'd say they have an equal chance. They'll be able to operate far enough off your coast that your government will have no viable legal reason to object to whatever they do. If anything, I'd say the Soviets have the advantage. They have both a clearer idea of the submarine's capabilities and a simpler overall mission. That more than balances their less capable sensors."
"Why isn't Ramius coming on faster?" Ryan asked. "That's the one thing I can't figure. Once he clears the SOSUS lines off Iceland, he's clear into the deep basin--so why not crack his throttles wide open and race for our coast?"
"At least two reasons," Barclay answered. "How much operational intelligence data do you see?"
"I handle individual assignments. That means I hop around a lot from one thing to another. I know a good deal about their boomers, for example, but not as much about their attack boats." Ryan didn't have to explain he was CIA.
"Well, you know how compartmentalized the Sovs are. Ramius probably doesn't know where their attack submarines are, not all of them. So, if he were to race about, he'd run the off chance of blundering into a stray Victor and being sunk without ever knowing what was happening. Second, what if the Soviets did enlist American assistance, saying perhaps that a missile sub had been taken over by a mutinous crew of Maoist counterrevolutionaries--and then your navy detects a missile submarine racing down the North Atlantic towards the American coast. What would your president do?"
"Yeah," Ryan nodded. "We'd blow it the hell out of the water."
"There you have it. Ramius is in the trade of stealth, and he'll likely stick to what he knows," Barclay concluded. "Fortunately or unfortunately, he's jolly good at it."
"How soon will we have performance data on this quiet drive system?" Carstairs wanted to know.
"Next couple of days, we hope."
"Where does Admiral Painter want us?" White asked.
"The plan he submitted to Norfolk puts you on the right flank. He wants Kennedy inshore to handle the threat from their surface force. He wants your force farther out. You see, Painter thinks there's the chance that Ramius will come straight south from the G-I-U.K. gap into the Atlantic basin and just sit for a while. The odds favor his not being detected there, and if the Soviets send the fleet after him, he's got the time and supplies to sit out there longer than they can maintain a force off our coast--both for technical and political reasons. Additionally, he wants your striking power out here to threaten their flank. It has to be approved by the commander in chief of the Atlantic Fleet, and a lot of details, remain to be worked out. For example, Painter requested some E-3 Sentries to support you out here."
"A month in the middle of the North Atlantic in winter?" Carstairs winced. He had been the Invincible's executive officer during the war around the Falklands and had ridden in the violent South Atlantic for endless weeks.
"Be happy for the E-3s." The admiral smiled. "Hunter, I want to see plans for using all these ships the Yanks are giving us, and how we can cover a maximum area. Barclay, I want to see your evaluation of what our friend Ramius will do. Assume he's still the clever bastard we've come to know and love."
http://www.divxmoviesenglishsubtitles.com/H/Hunt_For_Red_October_CD1.html
Hunt For Red October
Chief, put us on the roof.
Countermeasure station, on my mark. 5, 4...
1. Release countermeasures.
Emergency blow!
Full rise. Fair water plane.
600 feet.
550...
500 feet.
450...
Come on, big D. Fly.
From 2/1/2002 ( Microsoft al Qaida attacks me again in violent ambush at Issaquah Washington ) To 12/15/2002 ( Los Angeles Times - "Far From Battlefield, Marines Lose One-Third of Harrier Fleet" ) is 317 days
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 9/15/1966 ( premiere US TV series episode "Star Trek"::"Charlie X" ) is 317 days
From 9/15/1965 ( premiere US TV series "Lost in Space" ) To 12/15/2002 ( Los Angeles Times - "Far From Battlefield, Marines Lose One-Third of Harrier Fleet" ) is 13605 days
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 2/1/2003 ( the scheduled terrorist attack by Bill Gates-Nazi-Microsoft-NASA-George Bush the cowardly violent criminal reportedly destroying the United States space shuttle Columbia killing all United States and foreign national astronauts onboard United States Columbia spacecraft but I suspect that was all an elaborate hoax by NASA and those people are hiding somewhere to this day and probably in hiding somewhere with Saddam Hussein the material witness against George Herbert Walker Bush and George Walker Bush and their criminal co-conspirators against the United States of America ) is 13605 days
From 4/22/1945 ( Adolph Hitler admits defeat ) To 6/4/1982 ( RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 - premiere US film "Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan" ) is 13557 days
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 12/15/2002 ( Los Angeles Times - Far From Battlefield, Marines Lose One-Third of Harrier Fleet ) is 13557 days
[ See also: http://hvom.blogspot.com/2013/12/toy-soldiers.html ]
http://articles.latimes.com/2002/dec/15/nation/na-harrier15
Los Angeles Times
Far From Battlefield, Marines Lose One-Third of Harrier Fleet
The corps, persuing its long-held dream of a unique flying force, pays a heavy price: 45 of its elite officers killed
December 15, 2002 Alan C. Miller and Kevin Sack Times Staff Writers
YUMA, Ariz. — Though many had died flying the Harrier, Marine Corps pilot Peter E. Yount never thought it would let him down.
He knew the attack jet well and was devoted to it. In the entire U.S. arsenal, only the compact, muscular-looking Harrier could lift straight up off a runway, hover like a hummingbird, then blast off in search of targets.
"Difficult but honest" is how Yount described it.
But on a clear spring day in 1998, the Harrier would betray him. At 14,500 feet over the Southern California desert, the plane's engine quit. Yount twice tried to restart it. No response.
"I'm losing control of this thing," Yount radioed to his wingman in a firm voice. "I've got zero hydraulics. I've got nothing. I'm getting out of this thing. Get out of my way!"
http://www.chakoteya.net/movies/movie2.html
Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan
[Reliant bridge]
KHAN'S NAVIGATOR (OC): Course to intercept Enterprise ready, sir.
KHAN: Helmsman?
JOACHIM: Sir. May I speak? ...We're all with you, sir, but consider this. We are free. We have a ship and the means to go where we will. We have escaped permanent exile on Ceti Alpha Five. You have proved your superior intellect, and defeated the plans of Admiral Kirk. You do not need to defeat him again.
KHAN: He tasks me. He tasks me and I shall have him. I'll chase him round the moons of Nibia and round the Antares maelstrom and round perdition's flames before I give him up.
http://www.nvr.navy.mil/nvrships/details/SSN598.htm
NVR
Naval Vessel Register
GEORGE WASHINGTON (SSN 598)
(ex-SSBN 598)
SUBMARINE (NUCLEAR-POWERED)
Class: SSN 598
Award Date: 12/31/1957
Keel Date: 11/01/1957
Launch Date: 06/09/1959
Commission Date: 12/30/1959
Decommission Date: 01/24/1985
http://www.navysite.de/ssbn/ssbn598.htm
USS George Washington (SSBN 598)
USS GEORGE WASHINGTON was the Navy's first nuclear-powered fleet ballistic missile submarine.
http://www.e-reading.co.uk/bookreader.php/1016709/Clancy_-_the_Hunt_for_Red_October.html
The Hunt For Red October
Tom Clancy
Chapter 1.
THE FIRST DAY
FRIDAY, 3 DECEMBER
The Red October
Ordinarily it would have irritated Ramius to have his ship escorted out--the channel here was wide and deep--but not today. The ice was something to worry about. And so, for Ramius, was a great deal else.
"So, my Captain, again we go to sea to serve and protect the Rodina!" Captain Second Rank Ivan Yurievich Putin poked his head through the hatch--without permission, as usual--and clambered up the ladder with the awkwardness of a landsman. The tiny control station was already crowded enough with the captain, the navigator, and a mute lookout. Putin was the ship's zampolit (political officer). Everything he did was to serve the Rodina (Motherland), a word that had mystical connotations to a Russian and, along with V. I. Lenin, was the Communist party's substitute for a godhead.
"Indeed, Ivan," Ramius replied with more good cheer than he felt. "Two weeks at sea. It is good to leave the dock. A seaman belongs at sea, not tied alongside, overrun with bureaucrats and workmen with dirty boots. And we will be warm."
"You find this cold?" Putin asked incredulously.
For the hundredth time Ramius told himself that Putin was the perfect political officer. His voice was always too loud, his humor too affected. He never allowed a person to forget what he was. The perfect political officer, Putin was an easy man to fear.
"I have been in submarines too long, my friend. I grow accustomed to moderate temperatures and a stable deck under my feet." Putin did not notice the veiled insult. He'd been assigned to submarines after his first tour on destroyers had been cut short by chronic seasickness--and perhaps because he did not resent the close confinement aboard submarines, something that many men cannot tolerate.
"Ah, Marko Aleksandrovich, in Gorkiy on a day like this, flowers bloom!"
"And what sort of flowers might those be, Comrade Political Officer?" Ramius surveyed the fjord through his binoculars. At noon the sun was barely over the southeast horizon, casting orange light and purple shadows along the rocky walls.
"Why, snow flowers, of course," Putin said, laughing loudly. "On a day like this the faces of the children and the women glow pink, your breath trails behind you like a cloud, and the vodka tastes especially fine. Ah, to be in Gorkiy on a day like this!"
The bastard ought to work for Intourist, Ramius told himself, except that Gorkiy is a city closed to foreigners. He had been there twice. It had struck him as a typical Soviet city, full of ramshackle buildings, dirty streets, and ill-clad citizens. As it was in most Russian cities, winter was Gorkiy's best season. The snow hid all the dirt. Ramius, half Lithuanian, had childhood memories of a better place, a coastal village whose Hanseatic origin had left rows of presentable buildings.
It was unusual for anyone other than a Great Russian to be aboard--much less command--a Soviet naval vessel. Marko's father, Aleksandr Ramius, had been a hero of the Party, a dedicated, believing Communist who had served Stalin faithfully and well. When the Soviets first occupied Lithuania in 1940, the elder Ramius was instrumental in rounding up political dissidents, shop owners, priests, and anyone else who might have been troublesome to the new regime. All were shipped off to fates that now even Moscow could only guess at. When the Germans invaded a year later, Aleksandr fought heroically as a political commissar, and was later to distinguish himself in the Battle of Leningrad. In 1944 he returned to his native land with the spearhead of the Eleventh Guards Army to wreak bloody vengeance on those who had collaborated with the Germans or been suspected of such. Marko's father had been a true Soviet hero--and Marko was deeply ashamed to be his son. His mother's health had been broken during the endless siege of Leningrad. She died giving birth to him, and he was raised by his paternal grandmother in Lithuania while his father strutted through the Party Central Committee in Vilnius, awaiting his promotion to Moscow. He got that, too, and was a candidate member of the Politburo when his life was cut short by a heart attack.
Marko's shame was not total. His father's prominence had made his current goal a possibility, and Marko planned to wreak his own vengeance on the Soviet Union, enough, perhaps, to satisfy the thousands of his countrymen who had died before he was even born.
"Where we are going, Ivan Yurievich, it will be colder still."
Putin clapped his captain's shoulder. Was his affection feigned or real? Marko wondered. Probably real. Ramius was an honest man, and he recognized that this short, loud oaf did have some human feelings.
"Why is it, Comrade Captain, that you always seem glad to leave the Rodina and go to sea?"
Ramius smiled behind his binoculars. "A seaman has one country, Ivan Yurievich, but two wives. You never understand that. Now I go to my other wife, the cold, heartless one that owns my soul." Ramius paused. The smile vanished. "My only wife, now."
From 12/30/1959 ( the United States Navy warship USS George Washington SSBN 598 commissioned into United States Navy strategic force fleet active service - the first US Navy atomic propulsion fleet ballistic missile submarine - date of record 24 January 1985 my biological brother United States Navy Fleet Admiral Thomas Reagan serving as General of the Armies of the United States is the final commanding officer of USS George Washington SSN 598 the active fleet platform ) To 9/23/2010 ( RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 - the Barack Obama meeting with Wen Jiabao the premier of communist China ) is 18530 days
18530 = 9265 + 9265
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 3/16/1991 ( date hijacked from me:my first successful major test of my ultraspace matter transportation device as Kerry Wayne Burgess the successful Ph.D. graduate Columbia South Carolina ) is 9265 days
From 6/7/1976 ( my biological brother Thomas Reagan the civilian and privately financed astronaut in deep space of the solar system in his privately financed atomic pulse propulsion spaceship this day was his first landing the Saturn moon Phoebe and the Saturn moon Phoebe territory belongs to my brother Thomas Reagan ) To 9/23/2010 ( RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 - the Barack Obama meeting with Wen Jiabao the premier of communist China ) is 12526 days
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 2/18/2000 ( RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 - premiere US film "Pitch Black" ) is 12526 days
http://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/ws/index.php?pid=88490
Barack Obama [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
787 - Remarks Prior to a Meeting With Premier Wen Jiabao of China in New York City
September 23, 2010
President Obama. I want to welcome Premier Wen to the United States and once again say what an outstanding partner he's been over the last 21 months since I've been in office.
Along with President Hu, Premier Wen, I think, has exhibited extraordinary openness and cooperation with us as we try to strengthen the relationship between our two countries, a relationship that is based on cooperation, on mutual interest, on mutual respect.
We have worked together on a whole range of issues. Obviously, one of the most important issues has been to deal with the financial crisis and the recession that traveled around the world over the last several years. In the G-20, our cooperation, I think, has been absolutely critical.
I should probably actually let somebody translate now. [Laughter]
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0091187/quotes
IMDb
Heartbreak Ridge (1986)
Quotes
Highway: Shut your face, hippie!
Corporal 'Stitch' Jones: Hippie?
[whispers in ear]
Corporal 'Stitch' Jones: There haven't been hippies in centuries. Are you freeze-dried or doing hard time?
http://www.e-reading.co.uk/bookreader.php/1016709/Clancy_-_the_Hunt_for_Red_October.html
The Hunt For Red October
Tom Clancy
Chapter 3.
THE THIRD DAY
SUNDAY, 5 DECEMBER
The Red October
As a boy, Ramius sensed more than thought that Soviet Communism ignored a basic human need. In his teens, his misgivings began to take a coherent shape. The Good of the People was a laudable enough goal, but in denying a man's soul, an enduring part of his being, Marxism stripped away the foundation of human dignity and individual value. It also cast aside the objective measure of justice and ethics which, he decided, was the principal legacy of religion to civilized life. From earliest adulthood on, Marko had his own idea about right and wrong, an idea he did not share with the State. It gave him a means of gauging his actions and those of others. It was something he was careful to conceal. It served as an anchor for his soul and, like an anchor, it was hidden far below the visible surface.
Even as the boy was grappling with his first doubts about his country, no one could have suspected it. Like all Soviet children, Ramius joined the Little Octobrists, then the Young Pioneers. He paraded at the requisite battle shrines in polished boots and blood-red scarf, and gravely stood watch over the remains of some unknown soldier while clasping to his chest a deactivated PPSh submachinegun, his back ramrod straight before the eternal flame. The solemnity of such duty was no accident. As a boy Marko was certain that the brave men whose graves he guarded so intensely had met their fates with the same sort of selfless heroism that he saw portrayed in endless war movies at the local cinema. They had fought the hated Germans to protect the women and children and old people behind the lines. And like a nobleman's son of an earlier Russia, he took special pride in being the son of a Party chieftain. The Party, he heard a hundred times before he was five, was the Soul of the People; the unity of Party, People, and Nation was the holy trinity of the Soviet Union, albeit with one segment more important than the others. His father fit easily into the cinematic image of a Party apparatchik. Stern but fair, to Marko he was a frequently absent, gruffly kind man who brought his son what presents he could and saw to it that he had all the advantages the son of a Party secretary was entitled to.
Although outwardly he was the model Soviet child, inwardly he wondered why what he learned from his father and in school conflicted with the other lessons of his youth. Why did some parents refuse to let their children play with him? Why when he passed them did his classmates whisper "stukach," the cruel and bitter epithet of informer? His father and the Party taught that informing was an act of patriotism, but for having done it once he was shunned. He resented the taunts of his boyhood peers, but he never once complained to his father, knowing that this would be an evil thing to do.
Something was very wrong--but what? He decided that he had to find the answers for himself. By choice Marko became individual in his thinking, and so unknowingly committed the gravest sin in the Communist pantheon. Outwardly the model of a Party member's son, he played the game carefully and according to all the rules. He did his duty for all Party organizations, and was always the first to volunteer for the menial tasks allotted to children aspiring to Party membership, which he knew was the only path to success or even comfort in the Soviet Union. He became good at sports. Not team sports--he worked at track and field events in which he could compete as an individual and measure the performance of others. Over the years he learned to do the same in all of his endeavors, to watch and judge the actions of his fellow citizens and officers with cool detachment, behind a blank face that concealed his conclusions.
In the summer of his eighth year the course of his life was forever changed. When no one would play with "the little stukach," he would wander down to the fishing docks of the small village where his grandmother had made her home. A ragtag collection of old wooden boats sailed each morning, always behind a screen of patrol boats manned by MGB--as the KGB was then known--border guards, to reap a modest harvest from the Gulf of Finland. Their catch supplemented the local diet with needed protein and provided a minuscule income for the fishermen. One boat captain was old Sasha. An officer in the czar's navy, he had revolted with the crew of the cruiser Avrora, helping to spark the chain of events that changed the face of the world. Marko did not learn until many years later that the crewmen of the Avrora had broken with Lenin--and been savagely put down by Red Guards. Sasha had spent twenty years in labor camps for his part in that collective indiscretion and only been released at the beginning of the Great Patriotic War. The Rodina had found herself in need of experienced seamen to pilot ships into the ports of Murmansk and Archangel, to which the Allies were bringing weapons, food, and the sundries that allow a modern army to function. Sasha had learned his lesson in the gulag: he did his duty efficiently and well, asking for nothing in return. After the war he'd been given a kind of freedom for his services, the right to perform back-breaking work under perpetual suspicion.
By the time Marko met him, Sasha was over sixty, a nearly bald man with ropy old muscles, a seaman's eye, and a talent for stories that left the youngster wide-eyed. He'd been a midshipman under the famous Admiral Marakov at Port Arthur in 1906. Probably the finest seaman in Russian history, Marakov's reputation as a patriot and an innovative fighting sailor was sufficiently unblemished that a Communist government would eventually see fit to name a missile cruiser in his memory. At first wary of the boy's reputation, Sasha saw something in him that others missed. The boy without friends and the sailor without a family became comrades. Sasha spent hours telling and retelling the tale of how he had been on the admiral's flagship, the Petropavlovsk, and participated in the one Russian victory over the hated Japanese--only to have his battleship sunk and his admiral killed by a mine while returning to port. After this Sasha had led his seamen as naval infantry, winning three decorations for courage under fire. This experience--he waggled his finger seriously at the boy--taught him of the mindless corruption of the czarist regime and convinced him to join one of the first naval soviets when such action meant certain death at the hands of the czar's secret police, the okhrana. He told his own version of the October Revolution from the thrilling perspective of an eyewitness. But Sasha was very careful to leave the later parts out.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0134847/quotes
IMDb
Pitch Black (2000)
Quotes
Johns: He just escaped from a maximum security prison.
Fry: Should he just stay locked up forever?
Johns: That would be my choice.
Fry: Is he really that dangerous?
Johns: Only around humans.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0134847/quotes
IMDb
Pitch Black (2000)
Quotes
Riddick: All you people are so scared of me. Most days I'd take that as a compliment. But it ain't me you gotta worry about now.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0134847/quotes
IMDb
Pitch Black (2000)
Quotes
Johns: Zeke, fully-loaded clip. Safety's on. One shot if you spot him, okay?
Zeke: Don't tell me you're going off too.
Johns: Yeah.
Paris: But what happens if Mr. Riddick spots us first?
Johns: [grinning] There will be no shots.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0134847/quotes
IMDb
Pitch Black (2000)
Quotes
[first lines]
Riddick: [voiceover] They say most of your brain shuts down in cryo-sleep. All but the primitive side, the animal side. No wonder I'm still awake. Transporting me with civilians. Sounded like 40, 40-plus. Heard an Arab voice. Some hoodoo holy man, probably on his way to New Mecca. But what route? What route? I smelt a woman. Sweat, boots, tool belt, leather. Prospector type. Free settlers. And they only take the back roads. And here's my real problem. Mr. Johns... the blue-eyed devil. Planning on taking me back to slam... only this time he picked a ghost lane. A long time between stops. A long time for something to go wrong...
http://www.fourmilab.ch/cgi-bin/Solar
Solar System Live
Solar System: Sat 1991 Mar 16
Distance (AU)
Neptune 30.544
Pluto 29.107
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0043456/quotes
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The Internet Movie Database
Memorable quotes for
The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951)
[last lines]
Klaatu: I am leaving soon, and you will forgive me if I speak bluntly. The universe grows smaller every day, and the threat of aggression by any group, anywhere, can no longer be tolerated. There must be security for all, or no one is secure. Now, this does not mean giving up any freedom, except the freedom to act irresponsibly. Your ancestors knew this when they made laws to govern themselves and hired policemen to enforce them. We, of the other planets, have long accepted this principle.
http://www.fourmilab.ch/cgi-bin/Solar
Solar System: Mon 1976 Jun 7
Saturn
Distance (AU)
9.797
http://www.oocities.org/elzj78/bsgminiseries.html
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA: Miniseries (2003)
(Galactica. Caption: Galactica Starboard Landing Bay, Decommissioning Ceremony)
Doral: I'd like to thank you all again for being here today, and Elosha, thank you very much for those wonderful words. Next is a ceremonial fly-by by the last Galactica battle squadron led by Captain Lee Adama. (Music play, ships fly over, people applaud.
- posted by H.V.O.M - Kerry Wayne Burgess 02:09 AM Pacific Time somewhere near Seattle Washington USA Wednesday 04 December 2013
