The American Spectator

p> img src=”/_uploads/TheNewSoldier1.jpg” border=”0” alt=”” width= “200” height=”269” align=”left” valign=”top” hspace=”2” vspace=”2”> (Special Preview: From the October 2004  American Spectator ) br> In a gallimaufry of puerile prose from his 1971 Band of Brothers, the Democratic Party’s 2004 Vietnam Vet of the Year publishes sniveling sentiments and hairy-chested boasts that he apparently hoped time would erase: /p> p> Jim Weber br> I, I didn’t care about anyone else. You know, I cared about myself and I, I got drafted into the army and it made quite a big change because I was waving flags all the time that I was on my train, you know, down to South Carolina where I got my murder training. And I … okay, I went in there and my complete moral worth was completely destroyed. I mean I was a worthless human being. The worst thing that you can be in the military is to be called a civilian. And so they had to completely re-socialize us, which they were very effective at doing. I didn’t agree with everything, but I went along with it. Then I was sent on to advanced genocide training down at Fort Polk, Louisiana. And this is where I got, you know, this is where I started to hate, hate anything that wasn’t exactly like me. Anything that wasn’t a fighting machine. Gooks. /p> p> Skip Roberts