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Wwll: Hitler leading the Nazi troops during WWll 1939(colorized)
Wwll: Hitler leading the Nazi troops during WWll 1939(colorized)

Hitler leading the Nazi troops during WWll 1939(colorized)

Wwll: 62,681 do all Americans have pet eagles? Yes I remember my first eagle ceremony when I turned nine. The first eagle you get is always declawed, which I always thought was pretty inhumane, but it was a good way to ease into caring for the birds. My eagle (named Baldy, because I wasnt a terribly clever child) was already quite old when I received him (he was a rescue eagle, luckily) but I did have him until I was 16. I don't know if I was more excited about getting my drivers license that year or my new eagle! You should have seen the party we had when I got him, too! Grilled hot dogs and fire works and lemonade... obviously I named my beautiful new eagle Freedom. He's too big to keep inside anymore, unfortunatey but we've got a pretty comfortable roost for him on our apartment's balcony Ah, yes, the eagle ceremony! My Justice and I remember his quite well. (They had just come out with telepathic link transplants when I got him, which is how I know he remembers it.) Our celebration was quite modest, compared to Freedom's-apple pie under a cloudless summer sky as we signed our Declaration of Interdependence. I still have the inked and talon-plerced document hanging on my wall. what is this Get out Canada I was so scared during my pet eagle ceremony I almost threw up. But Stonewall Jackson and I have been best friends ever since. My dad and grandfather built a really massive roost behind the house for my eagle and my sisters' eagles. Stonewall always waits for me when I get home from class since schools are getting so over protective and strict these days and won't allow eagles indoors. Which just goes to show how much we're bubble wrapping kids today. Back in the day, if you couldn't handle a few stitches because you pissed off the wrong kid's eagle you had to just man up and learn your lesson! Ooo, I never miss a chance to tell this story! I had a rather unusual first eagle ceremony. The traditional giant American flag that you wave around to summon your eagle had been severely damaged the week prior (a ceremony that had not gone according to plan, but the child only suffered minor talon wounds. The flag took the brunt of the attack). Anyway, I couldn't use the normal flag so we had to search ALL OVER for one suitable for eagle summoning. Unfortunately the stripes weren't the correct shade of patriotic red so everyone was worried an eagle wouldn't show up at all. I had to stand in the middle of that wheat field, the wind creating amber waves out of it, shaking that flag in the air for over three hours. Everyone was just about to give up when suddenly Patriot appeared out of nowhere! He came to me so quickly it was like he was apologizing for being late. And we've been together ever since. Some people think it's excessive to have two eagles. But what can I say, I'm a two eagles kind of guy. Well, I can say, "You must be a terrorist to call me out over my excesses," but I digress. We don't have many open fields around here, so I got Liberty by waving my flag atop a decommissioned WWll aircraft carrier. I was kicking a couple of boxes of tea into the harbor for good measure, and there she was. I loved her so much I repeated the process a year later and got young Colbert here. It's hard work, raising two eagles, but I have two shoulders, after all. Besides, I know that the secret to happy and healthy eagles is plenty of Bud Light. Oh man, the eagle ceremony. I was a weird fucking kid, okay, so l was totally sure that the eagle ceremony wasn't just going to net me my eagle and deepen the mystical bond between a citizen and their country, I thought I was going to get to turn into an eagle too. So me and my mom and my dad and my little brother are all standing in the old civil war battleground, surrounded by the ghosts of our fallen soldiers, and all and the problem here- it's not usually a problem because I make sure to shave my beard off twice a day, three times on sundays- was that I am, actually, born on the fourth of July. So it wasn't just one eagle that showed up, it was pretty much every big old patriotic warbird in Missouri, all flapping around confused and pissed off, their innate senses of direction completely fucked up by the way firecracker babies warp America's natural system of ley lines. And I was six, so grabbed the flag and ran with it over my shoulders, rippling in the wind, thinking it was going to turn into wings for me and I would go be an eagle with all the other eagles. Instead I just got mobbed by a freaked-out mess of nationalistic avians who all weighed more than I did. I lost half my nose and my whole left arm and spent most of fourth grade in reconstructive surgery getting machine guns welded on to the shattered remains of my ulna. Completely missed my little brother's eagle ceremony, which I wil always regret, but it was all worth it to have met Columbia. I never did turn into an eagle on the outside, but I like to think those long hours in the hospital, feeding her rubbing alcohol and my own blood, have made me an eagle in my heart. you should probably go to TheMetaPicture.com srsfunny: Do All Americans Really Have Pet Eagles?
Wwll: 62,681
 do all Americans have pet eagles?
 Yes
 I remember my first eagle ceremony
 when I turned nine. The first eagle you get
 is always declawed, which I always
 thought was pretty inhumane, but it was a
 good way to ease into caring for the birds.
 My eagle (named Baldy, because I wasnt
 a terribly clever child) was already quite
 old when I received him (he was a rescue
 eagle, luckily) but I did have him until I
 was 16. I don't know if I was more excited
 about getting my drivers license that year
 or my new eagle! You should have seen
 the party we had when I got him, too!
 Grilled hot dogs and fire works and
 lemonade... obviously I named my
 beautiful new eagle Freedom. He's too
 big to keep inside anymore, unfortunatey
 but we've got a pretty comfortable roost
 for him on our apartment's balcony
 Ah, yes, the eagle ceremony! My Justice and I
 remember his quite well. (They had just come
 out with telepathic link transplants when I got
 him, which is how I know he remembers it.)
 Our celebration was quite modest, compared
 to Freedom's-apple pie under a cloudless
 summer sky as we signed our Declaration of
 Interdependence. I still have the inked and
 talon-plerced document hanging on my wall.
 what is this
 Get out Canada
 I was so scared during my pet eagle ceremony I almost
 threw up. But Stonewall Jackson and I have been best
 friends ever since. My dad and grandfather built a really
 massive roost behind the house for my eagle and my
 sisters' eagles. Stonewall always waits for me when I get
 home from class since schools are getting so over
 protective and strict these days and won't allow eagles
 indoors. Which just goes to show how much we're bubble
 wrapping kids today. Back in the day, if you couldn't handle
 a few stitches because you pissed off the wrong kid's eagle
 you had to just man up and learn your lesson!
 Ooo, I never miss a chance to tell this story! I had a rather
 unusual first eagle ceremony. The traditional giant American flag
 that you wave around to summon your eagle had been severely
 damaged the week prior (a ceremony that had not gone
 according to plan, but the child only suffered minor talon
 wounds. The flag took the brunt of the attack). Anyway, I
 couldn't use the normal flag so we had to search ALL OVER for
 one suitable for eagle summoning. Unfortunately the stripes
 weren't the correct shade of patriotic red so everyone was
 worried an eagle wouldn't show up at all. I had to stand in the
 middle of that wheat field, the wind creating amber waves out of
 it, shaking that flag in the air for over three hours. Everyone was
 just about to give up when suddenly Patriot appeared out of
 nowhere! He came to me so quickly it was like he was
 apologizing for being late. And we've been together ever since.
 Some people think it's excessive to have two eagles. But what can I
 say, I'm a two eagles kind of guy. Well, I can say, "You must be a
 terrorist to call me out over my excesses," but I digress. We don't
 have many open fields around here, so I got Liberty by waving my
 flag atop a decommissioned WWll aircraft carrier. I was kicking a
 couple of boxes of tea into the harbor for good measure, and there
 she was. I loved her so much I repeated the process a year later
 and got young Colbert here. It's hard work, raising two eagles, but I
 have two shoulders, after all. Besides, I know that the secret to
 happy and healthy eagles is plenty of Bud Light.
 Oh man, the eagle ceremony. I was a weird fucking kid, okay, so l was
 totally sure that the eagle ceremony wasn't just going to net me my eagle
 and deepen the mystical bond between a citizen and their country, I
 thought I was going to get to turn into an eagle too. So me and my mom
 and my dad and my little brother are all standing in the old civil war
 battleground, surrounded by the ghosts of our fallen soldiers, and all and
 the problem here- it's not usually a problem because I make sure to
 shave my beard off twice a day, three times on sundays- was that I am,
 actually, born on the fourth of July. So it wasn't just one eagle that
 showed up, it was pretty much every big old patriotic warbird in Missouri,
 all flapping around confused and pissed off, their innate senses of
 direction completely fucked up by the way firecracker babies warp
 America's natural system of ley lines. And I was six, so grabbed the flag
 and ran with it over my shoulders, rippling in the wind, thinking it was
 going to turn into wings for me and I would go be an eagle with all the
 other eagles. Instead I just got mobbed by a freaked-out mess of
 nationalistic avians who all weighed more than I did. I lost half my nose
 and my whole left arm and spent most of fourth grade in reconstructive
 surgery getting machine guns welded on to the shattered remains of my
 ulna. Completely missed my little brother's eagle ceremony, which I wil
 always regret, but it was all worth it to have met Columbia. I never did turn
 into an eagle on the outside, but I like to think those long hours in the
 hospital, feeding her rubbing alcohol and my own blood, have made me
 an eagle in my heart.
 you should probably go to TheMetaPicture.com
srsfunny:

Do All Americans Really Have Pet Eagles?

srsfunny: Do All Americans Really Have Pet Eagles?

Wwll: rgfellows: So, in my art history class today, my professor was talking about something that is so fuckin awesome. These are warrior shields from the Wahgi people of Papua New Guinea. The warriors paint them with imagery meant to symbolize animals who have traits they wish to embody in battle. These depictions are intended to give the person using it the powers of what theyre depicting. Now. Look at this Wahgi shield: Hmm. That looks a bit different from the others That looks VERY different. Why, it looks like The Phantom.. American comic book character by Lee Falk. And that's because it is. The Wahgi people were isolated from the rest of the "modern" world until I933. They came into contact with WWll service men who shared some aspects of western culture with the tribesmen. In particular, they showed them the comic books they read while shipped out. The Wahgi loved them. In particular, the Wahgi adored the stories of the Phantom, who wasn't even particularly popular in its home of America. He is so popular that the few Wahgi who can read english will read the comics out loud in the village center and hold out the pages for everyone to see, so the whole tripe can enjoy them and marvel at the Phantoms might in battle. They identify with the Phantom because he came from a jungle territory, like them, wore a mask to fight, like them, and came from a long line of warriors, which the Wahgi, who worshiped their ancestors, deeply respected. Further, despite not really having superpowers, the Phantom is strong, clever, and incredibly fast. He was so fast that his enemies began to believe that he was impervious to bullets and could not be killed. Therefore, the Wahgi began painting HIM on their shields to invoke HIS abilities in battle. There are TONS of Phantom-Wahgi shiclds out So, you might think that you're huge comic book fan, but the Wahgi have taken their Phantom fandom to the next level and have made the Phantom a fucking talisman to carry into battle fo【 strength. This is officially the best confluence of comics and real life in history
Wwll: rgfellows:
 So, in my art history class today, my professor was talking about
 something that is so fuckin awesome.
 These are warrior shields from the Wahgi people of Papua New Guinea.
 The warriors paint them with imagery meant to symbolize animals who
 have traits they wish to embody in battle. These depictions are intended
 to give the person using it the powers of what theyre depicting.
 Now. Look at this Wahgi shield:
 Hmm. That looks a bit different from the others
 That looks VERY different. Why, it looks like
 The Phantom.. American comic book character by Lee Falk. And that's
 because it is.
 The Wahgi people were isolated from the rest of the "modern" world
 until I933. They came into contact with WWll service men who shared
 some aspects of western culture with the tribesmen. In particular, they
 showed them the comic books they read while shipped out. The Wahgi
 loved them. In particular, the Wahgi adored the stories of the Phantom,
 who wasn't even particularly popular in its home of America.
 He is so popular that the few Wahgi who can read english will read the
 comics out loud in the village center and hold out the pages for
 everyone to see, so the whole tripe can enjoy them and marvel at the
 Phantoms
 might in battle.
 They identify with the Phantom because he came from a jungle
 territory, like them, wore a mask to fight, like them, and came from a
 long line of warriors, which the Wahgi, who worshiped their ancestors,
 deeply respected. Further, despite not really having superpowers, the
 Phantom is strong, clever, and incredibly fast. He was so fast that his
 enemies began to believe that he was impervious to bullets and could
 not be killed.
 Therefore, the Wahgi began painting HIM on their shields to invoke
 HIS abilities in battle. There are TONS of Phantom-Wahgi shiclds out
 So, you might think that you're huge comic book fan, but the Wahgi
 have taken their Phantom fandom to the next level and have made the
 Phantom a fucking talisman to carry into battle fo【 strength.
This is officially the best confluence of comics and real life in history

This is officially the best confluence of comics and real life in history

Wwll: NOAH NoahJ456 456 @NoahJ456 ZOMBIES CONFIRMED!!! #CODWWII CALLDUTY OF WORLDWIDE REVEAL SLEDGEHAMMER GAMES 7:32 p. m. . 26 abr 17 1 3% 12:22 ← Tweet Zw Assassin @ 4d respuesta a @NoahJ456 t was always confirmed xD Elizabeth Tipton respuesta a @Noah J456 4d tronman respuesta a@NoahJ456 YES .4d espuesta a @NoahJ456 Zo B@ wemz 113 BLOO-BERRY 4d spuesta a @NoahJ456 Nazi zombiesee Iwittea tu respuesta ← Tweet charlieINTEL.com @charlielNTEL NEWS: Female soldiers confirmed for Call of Duty: WWll multiplayer Traducir del inglés Female Soldiers confirmed for Call of Duty: WWIl Multijp charlieintel.com 5:52 p. m. 30 abr. 17 1 2% 1 2:24 KTweet mitch @ En respuesta a @charlieINTEL here was no females in the 1940s diot 18h 1 respuesta más #BROKEN Creed 18h En respuesta a @charlielNTEL o instead of being accurate, they try and fit the views of SJWs and Feminists? I get there were female soldiers but they were Russian 18h ou're actually very wrong, do search わ2 #BROKEN Creed 18h None of them fought in combat, they were either nurses or factory workers Iwittea tu respuesta <p><a href="https://mwg-7.tumblr.com/post/160677429571/eddierichtofens-spainonymous-call-of-male" class="tumblr_blog">mwg-7</a>:</p> <blockquote> <p><a href="http://eddierichtofens.tumblr.com/post/160265787062/spainonymous-call-of-male-chouvinist-yeah-the" class="tumblr_blog">eddierichtofens</a>:</p> <blockquote> <p><a href="http://spainonymous.tumblr.com/post/160210330919/call-of-male-chouvinist" class="tumblr_blog">spainonymous</a>:</p> <blockquote><p>Call of Male chouvinist</p></blockquote> <p>Yeah, the most unrealistic thing about Call of Duty is <i>female</i> soldiers.</p> </blockquote> <p>women were invented in 1950</p> </blockquote> <p>Mujeres zombies es la clave para contentar a todos</p>
Wwll: NOAH NoahJ456
 456
 @NoahJ456
 ZOMBIES CONFIRMED!!! #CODWWII
 CALLDUTY
 OF
 WORLDWIDE REVEAL
 SLEDGEHAMMER
 GAMES
 7:32 p. m. . 26 abr 17

 1 3%
 12:22
 ← Tweet
 Zw Assassin @
 4d
 respuesta a @NoahJ456
 t was always confirmed xD
 Elizabeth Tipton
 respuesta a @Noah J456
 4d
 tronman
 respuesta a@NoahJ456
 YES
 .4d
 espuesta a @NoahJ456
 Zo B@
 wemz 113
 BLOO-BERRY
 4d
 spuesta a @NoahJ456
 Nazi zombiesee
 Iwittea tu respuesta

 ← Tweet
 charlieINTEL.com
 @charlielNTEL
 NEWS: Female soldiers confirmed for
 Call of Duty: WWll multiplayer
 Traducir del inglés
 Female Soldiers confirmed
 for Call of Duty: WWIl Multijp
 charlieintel.com
 5:52 p. m. 30 abr. 17

 1 2%
 1 2:24
 KTweet
 mitch @
 En respuesta a @charlieINTEL
 here was no females in the 1940s
 diot
 18h
 1 respuesta más
 #BROKEN Creed
 18h
 En respuesta a @charlielNTEL
 o instead of being accurate, they try
 and fit the views of SJWs and
 Feminists? I get there were female
 soldiers but they were Russian
 18h
 ou're actually very wrong, do
 search
 わ2
 #BROKEN Creed
 18h
 None of them fought in combat, they
 were either nurses or factory workers
 Iwittea tu respuesta
<p><a href="https://mwg-7.tumblr.com/post/160677429571/eddierichtofens-spainonymous-call-of-male" class="tumblr_blog">mwg-7</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p><a href="http://eddierichtofens.tumblr.com/post/160265787062/spainonymous-call-of-male-chouvinist-yeah-the" class="tumblr_blog">eddierichtofens</a>:</p>

<blockquote>
<p><a href="http://spainonymous.tumblr.com/post/160210330919/call-of-male-chouvinist" class="tumblr_blog">spainonymous</a>:</p>
<blockquote><p>Call of Male chouvinist</p></blockquote>
<p>Yeah, the most unrealistic thing about Call of Duty is <i>female</i> soldiers.</p>
</blockquote>

<p>women were invented in 1950</p>
</blockquote>

<p>Mujeres zombies es la clave para contentar a todos</p>

<p><a href="https://mwg-7.tumblr.com/post/160677429571/eddierichtofens-spainonymous-call-of-male" class="tumblr_blog">mwg-7</a>:</p> <blo...

Wwll: ladyjanelly E yanethyrael tumblr Follow STILL ON PATROL I learned something new and horrifying today which is... that.. no submarine is ever considered "lost".there is apparently a tradition in the U.S. Navy that no submarine is ever lost. Those that go to sea and do not return are considered to be "still on patrol. There is a monument about this along a canal near here its... the worst thing I have ever seen. it says "STILL ON PATROL' in huge letters and then goes on to specify exactly how many WWIl submarine ghosts are STILL OUT THERE, ON PATROL (it is almost 2000 wwil submarine ghosts, ftr). Here is the text from it U.S. Navy Submarines paid heavily for their success in WWll. A total of 374 officers and 3131 men are still on board these 52 U.S. submarines still on patrol. THANKS A LOT, US、NAVY, FOR HAVING THIS TOTALLY NORMAL AND NOT AT ALL HORRIFYING TRADITION, AND TELLING ALL OF US ABOUT IT THANKS. THANK YOU anyway now my mother and I cannot stop saying STILL ON PATROL to each other in ominous tones of voice tharook There's definitely something ominous about that-the implication that, one day they will return from patrol thehoneybeewitch Actually, it's rather sweet. I don't know if this is common across the board, but my dad's friend is a radio op for subs launched off the east coast, and he always is excited for Christmas, because they go through the list of SoP subs and hail them, wishing them a merry Christmas and telling them they're remembered Imagine a country whose seamen never die, and whose submarines can't be destroyed...because no ones sure if they exist or not. No but imagine. It's Christmas. A black, rotting corridor in a forgotten submarine The sound of dripping water echoes coldly through the hull. You can't see very far down the corridor but then, a man appears, he's running, in a panic, but his footsteps make no noise. The spectral seaman dashes around the corner and slips through a rusty wall. He finds himself at the back of a crowd of his They part to let him through. He feels the weight of their hollow gaze as he reaches the coms station. Even after all these years a sickly green light glistens in the dark. The captain's skeleton lays a sharp hand on his shoulder and nods at him encouragingly, the light sliding over the bones of his skull. The ghost of the seaman steadies himself and slips his fingers into the dials of the radio, possessing it. It wails and screeches. A bombardment of static. And then silence. The deathly crew mates look at each other with worry with sadness, could this be the year where there is no voice in the dark? No memory of home? The phantasm of the sailor pushes his hand deeper into the workings of the radio, the signal static but warm and kind, echoes from the darkness, "Merry Christmas boys, we're all thinking of you here at home, have a good one A sepulchral tear wafts it's way down the seaman's face. The bony captain embraces him. The crew grin through rotten jaws, laughing silently in their joy They haven't forgotten us. They haven't forgotten. lears, and then a strong voice, distant with the I am completely on board with this. It's not horritying, it's heartwarming Personal story time: whenever I go to Field Museum's Egypt exhibit,I stop by the plaque at the entrance to the underground rooms. It has an English translation of a prayer to feed the dead, and a list of all the names they know of the mummies on display there.I always recite the prayer and read aloud the list of names. They wanted to live forever, to always have their souls fed and their names spoken. How would they feel about being behind glass, among strangers? Every little thing you can do to give respect for the dead is warranted I love the idea of lost subs still being on patrol. Though if you really want something ominous, let me say that the superstitious part of me wonders: why are they still on patrol? If they haven't been found, do they not consider their mission completed? What is it out there that they are protecting us from? There's been something in the water since we first learned to float on it. Not marine life, although there's more of that than we'll ever knoW. Not rocks and currents and sand bars and icebergs either, although they've all taken more than their share of human life But something deeper. Something Other. Something not natural. Sailors have always been superstitious. Not one of them described it right. You don't hear about it so much now that we don't lose ships anymore, really not like we did at the height of the sea trade when barely an inch of ocean floor didn't bear some wreck or other. And better ships and GPS and weather satellites have all played their part in that But we have protection now that we didn't before. They don't intertere with war and battle, even on behalf of what used to be their country, or with rocks and weather and human stupidity. Those are concerns for the living But the Other Things, the Things that shouldn't be there They can't get to us now without a tight. It's a fight They haven't won in a very long time As long as we remember them, as long as we call out to them-not very often just once a year will do- they will keep protecting us from the Things that go bump in the deep More than tifty submarines, Still On Patrol I love everything about this, but it's the last bit that made me say "okay now I'I reblog it. Source:pipistrellus 51,990 notes Best of tumblr: On sailors lost, but not forgotten
Wwll: ladyjanelly
 E yanethyrael
 tumblr
 Follow
 STILL ON PATROL
 I learned something new and horrifying today which is... that.. no submarine is
 ever considered "lost".there is apparently a tradition in the U.S. Navy that no
 submarine is ever lost. Those that go to sea and do not return are considered to
 be "still on patrol.
 There is a monument about this along a canal near here its... the worst thing I
 have ever seen. it says "STILL ON PATROL' in huge letters and then goes on to
 specify exactly how many WWIl submarine ghosts are STILL OUT THERE, ON
 PATROL (it is almost 2000 wwil submarine ghosts, ftr). Here is the text from it
 U.S. Navy Submarines paid heavily for their success in WWll. A total of 374
 officers and 3131 men are still on board these 52 U.S. submarines still on
 patrol.
 THANKS A LOT, US、NAVY, FOR HAVING THIS TOTALLY NORMAL AND NOT
 AT ALL HORRIFYING TRADITION, AND TELLING ALL OF US ABOUT IT
 THANKS. THANK YOU
 anyway now my mother and I cannot stop saying STILL ON PATROL to each
 other in ominous tones of voice
 tharook
 There's definitely something ominous about that-the implication that, one day
 they will return from patrol
 thehoneybeewitch
 Actually, it's rather sweet. I don't know if this is common across the board, but
 my dad's friend is a radio op for subs launched off the east coast, and he always
 is excited for Christmas, because they go through the list of SoP subs and hail
 them, wishing them a merry Christmas and telling them they're remembered
 Imagine a country whose seamen never die, and whose submarines can't be
 destroyed...because no ones sure if they exist or not.
 No but imagine. It's Christmas. A black, rotting corridor in a forgotten submarine
 The sound of dripping water echoes coldly through the hull. You can't see very
 far down the corridor but then, a man appears, he's running, in a panic, but his
 footsteps make no noise. The spectral seaman dashes around the corner and
 slips through a rusty wall. He finds himself at the back of a crowd of his
 They part
 to let him through. He feels the weight of
 their hollow gaze as he reaches the coms station. Even after all these years a
 sickly green light glistens in the dark. The captain's skeleton lays a sharp hand
 on his shoulder and nods at him encouragingly, the light sliding over the bones
 of his skull. The ghost of the seaman steadies himself and slips his fingers into
 the dials of the radio, possessing it. It wails and screeches. A bombardment of
 static. And then silence. The deathly crew mates look at each other with worry
 with sadness, could this be the year where there is no voice in the dark? No
 memory of home? The phantasm of the sailor pushes his hand deeper into the
 workings of the radio, the signal
 static but warm and kind, echoes from the darkness, "Merry Christmas boys,
 we're all thinking of you here at home, have a good one
 A sepulchral tear wafts it's way down the seaman's face. The bony captain
 embraces him. The crew grin through rotten jaws, laughing silently in their joy
 They haven't forgotten us. They haven't forgotten.
 lears, and then a strong voice, distant with the
 I am completely on board with this. It's not horritying, it's heartwarming
 Personal story time: whenever I go to Field Museum's Egypt exhibit,I stop by
 the plaque at the entrance to the underground rooms. It has an English
 translation of a prayer to feed the dead, and a list of all the names they know of
 the mummies on display there.I always recite the prayer and read aloud the list
 of names. They wanted to live forever, to always have their souls fed and their
 names spoken. How would they feel about being behind glass, among
 strangers? Every little thing you can do to give respect for the dead is warranted
 I love the idea of lost subs still being on patrol. Though if you really want
 something ominous, let me say that the superstitious part of me wonders: why
 are they still on patrol? If they haven't been found, do they not consider their
 mission completed? What is it out there that they are protecting us from?
 There's been something in the water since we first learned to float on it. Not
 marine life, although there's more of that than we'll ever knoW. Not rocks and
 currents and sand bars and icebergs either, although they've all taken more than
 their share of human life
 But something deeper. Something Other. Something not natural.
 Sailors have always been superstitious.
 Not one of them described it right.
 You don't hear about it so much now that we don't lose ships anymore, really
 not like we did at the height of the sea trade when barely an inch of ocean floor
 didn't bear some wreck or other. And better ships and GPS and weather
 satellites have all played their part in that
 But we have protection now that we didn't before. They don't intertere with war
 and battle, even on behalf of what used to be their country, or with rocks and
 weather and human stupidity. Those are concerns for the living
 But the Other Things, the Things that shouldn't be there They can't get to us
 now without a tight. It's a fight They haven't won in a very long time
 As long as we remember them, as long as we call out to them-not very often
 just once a year will do- they will keep protecting us from the Things that go
 bump in the deep
 More than tifty submarines, Still On Patrol
 I love everything about this, but it's the last bit that made me say "okay now I'I
 reblog it.
 Source:pipistrellus
 51,990 notes
Best of tumblr: On sailors lost, but not forgotten

Best of tumblr: On sailors lost, but not forgotten

Wwll: My bros I have been doing a lot of reading about Wacky wwil Hjinks lately and I want to tel you a slory because I love it okay once upon a time there was a dude in Spain named Juan Pujol Garcia Pujol was a chicken famer. Pujol hated him some goddamn fascists See Span had recently ended its civt war, with the fascists taking power So when wwll broke out in Europe, Spain technically remained neutrail but in practice was buddy buddy with the Nazis Juan Pujol Garcia thought this was pretty bulishit so soon ater war breaks out Pujol travels to his local British embassy and goes heyI wanna spy on the Nazis for you who the fuck are you? say the Brtish, and kick him out but Pujol is not deterredl He stil wants to dunk on some fascists, so now he goes to his local Geman embassy instead. hey he says, 1 wanna spy on the Brtish for you, I sure do hate them yeah okay say the Germans that seems pretty legit and just like that Pujol now officialy warks for the Abwehr, the German intelligence agency. They hand him some spy gear (invisible Ink and such) and instruct him to travel lo Lisbon, and from there make his way into the UK So Pujol heads to Lisbon, and a ltde while later writes to his German handliers teling them he's made it to England Pujol had not made it to England. He had, in fact, made t to the Lisbon public library, where he checked out a number of English guide bocks and set about just wholesavle making smr up this is sighy complicated by he fact that, for example, he completely did not understand British currency and all his expense reports were basicaly gibberish He also reported things like brioing Scotsmen, because the people of Glasgow would do anything tor a Itre of wine (an actual quote) because, hey, people in Spain lke wine so that's probably the same nigh? Here is where it starts to get realy crazy, because the Atwehr Joves tns woW this dude is a great spy they say because apparenty none of them had ever been the England esther. In fact, they are so pumped about this new awesome spy that the British stairt to get worried you see, by this time the British had cracked German's supposedly unbreakable Enigma code and were totally dunking on the Nazis by reading basically all of ther-super top secret-radio transmissions. And, crucially, they'd become so good at breaking and reading traffic that there were iterally no German spies in England. The Germans would set up a spy drop (usually dropping duces in by parachute in the middle of the night), the Brtish would intercept the message and then just scoop the dudes up as soon as they landed in a move that must have been SUPER embarrassing to the spies so there are no Geman spies in the UK because theyre all shting in a prison run by MI5 (although some are being run under supervision as double agents, feeding Genmany builshit) But suddenly MI5 is picking up all this traffic from the Germans talking about their super great spy- a spy the Bntish do not have in their jail oh shit says MI5, and starts rereading all the transmissions they have to and from this mysterious super spy hey wait says MI5, upon actually reading the shit the spy was sending someone is playing sily buggers, pip pip cheerio At this point, Pujol sll in Lisbon, had actualily been approaching the British embassy again, repeatedly, but apparently 1 am literally an Abwehr agent and would like to offer you my services wasn't interesting enough, because he was repeatedly turned away, again it want until MIS started asking around that one of the embassy staf was like oh yeah we know that guy so in 1942 the British finally make contact with Pujol and he officially becomes a spy for Mi5. They move him to London and assign him a case oicer so he can start making up even better bulshit and he does. Once actually in London, Pujol reports to the Abwehr that he d recruited a whole slew of informants from a bunch of Welsh Aryans to disaffected army officers. He ends up wih a network of 20+ sub-spies, all feeding him information from around the U none of mese people actualy exist Pujol just straight up invented like 20 people, keeping careful track of their fake personalties, names, and actvities with the hep of Mi5, the information he sends becomes even better- a mix of true but ultimately useless facis and actualy important intel tmed to artve in Germany just sightly too late to be af any use. He and his "spy network become the Abwehr's most trusted agents Pujol, now codenamed Agent Garbo (for his acting skils), ends up playing a huge role in the run-up to D-Day, where the Alies mounted a huge intellgenoe campaign to convince Htler that the planned sile of attack was going to be Calais and not Normandy (this was Operation Fortitude and you should absolulely look t up lor more Wacky WWll Adventures) Obviously you know how this ended crazly enough, the Abwenr never figured out that Pujol was a double agent After the war he recelved both the Iron Cross Second Class (which require personal authorization from Hitier), and a Member of the Order of the Brtish Empire (from King George Vi unable to resist being rotaly fucking ndiculous, Pujol tumed down MI5's post-war offer to continue spying, but this time against he USSR TO, he said just help me fake my own death and then I'm moving to Venezuela and thats exacly what he ad Juan Garcia Pujol died in 1988, at the age of 76 Okay I'm just editing my reblog to add this picture of Juan Pujol Garcia because I feel that t adds so much to the story to picture him doing ALL THE ABOVE with this expression: what a legend Juan Pujol Garcia:The first shitposter
Wwll: My bros I have been doing a lot of reading about Wacky wwil Hjinks lately and
 I want to tel you a slory because I love it okay
 once upon a time there was a dude in Spain named Juan Pujol Garcia Pujol
 was a chicken famer. Pujol hated him some goddamn fascists
 See Span had recently ended its civt war, with the fascists taking power So
 when wwll broke out in Europe, Spain technically remained neutrail but in
 practice was buddy buddy with the Nazis Juan Pujol Garcia thought this was
 pretty bulishit
 so soon ater war breaks out Pujol travels to his local British embassy and goes
 heyI wanna spy on the Nazis for you
 who the fuck are you? say the Brtish, and kick him out
 but Pujol is not deterredl He stil wants to dunk on some fascists, so now he
 goes to his local Geman embassy instead. hey he says, 1 wanna spy on the
 Brtish for you, I sure do hate them
 yeah okay say the Germans that seems pretty legit
 and just like that Pujol now officialy warks for the Abwehr, the German
 intelligence agency. They hand him some spy gear (invisible Ink and such) and
 instruct him to travel lo Lisbon, and from there make his way into the UK So
 Pujol heads to Lisbon, and a ltde while later writes to his German handliers
 teling them he's made it to England
 Pujol had not made it to England. He had, in fact, made t to the Lisbon public
 library, where he checked out a number of English guide bocks and set about
 just wholesavle making smr up
 this is sighy complicated by he fact that, for example, he completely did not
 understand British currency and all his expense reports were basicaly gibberish
 He also reported things like brioing Scotsmen, because the people of Glasgow
 would do anything tor a Itre of wine (an actual quote) because, hey, people in
 Spain lke wine so that's probably the same nigh?
 Here is where it starts to get realy crazy, because the Atwehr Joves tns woW
 this dude is a great spy they say because apparenty none of them had ever
 been the England esther. In fact, they are so pumped about this new awesome
 spy that the British stairt to get worried
 you see, by this time the British had cracked German's supposedly unbreakable
 Enigma code and were totally dunking on the Nazis by reading basically all of
 ther-super top secret-radio transmissions. And, crucially, they'd become so
 good at breaking and reading traffic that there were iterally no German spies in
 England. The Germans would set up a spy drop (usually dropping duces in by
 parachute in the middle of the night), the Brtish would intercept the message
 and then just scoop the dudes up as soon as they landed in a move that must
 have been SUPER embarrassing to the spies
 so there are no Geman spies in the UK because theyre all shting in a prison
 run by MI5 (although some are being run under supervision as double agents,
 feeding Genmany builshit) But suddenly MI5 is picking up all this traffic from the
 Germans talking about their super great spy- a spy the Bntish do not have in
 their jail
 oh shit says MI5, and starts rereading all the transmissions they have to and
 from this mysterious super spy
 hey wait says MI5, upon actually reading the shit the spy was sending
 someone is playing sily buggers, pip pip cheerio
 At this point, Pujol sll in Lisbon, had actualily been approaching the British
 embassy again, repeatedly, but apparently 1 am literally an Abwehr agent and
 would like to offer you my services wasn't interesting enough, because he was
 repeatedly turned away, again it want until MIS started asking around that one
 of the embassy staf was like oh yeah we know that guy
 so in 1942 the British finally make contact with Pujol and he officially becomes a
 spy for Mi5. They move him to London and assign him a case oicer so he can
 start making up even better bulshit
 and he does. Once actually in London, Pujol reports to the Abwehr that he d
 recruited a whole slew of informants from a bunch of Welsh Aryans to
 disaffected army officers. He ends up wih a network of 20+ sub-spies, all
 feeding him information from around the U
 none of mese people actualy exist
 Pujol just straight up invented like 20 people, keeping careful track of their fake
 personalties, names, and actvities with the hep of Mi5, the information he
 sends becomes even better- a mix of true but ultimately useless facis and
 actualy important intel tmed to artve in Germany just sightly too late to be af
 any use. He and his "spy network become the Abwehr's most trusted agents
 Pujol, now codenamed Agent Garbo (for his acting skils), ends up playing a
 huge role in the run-up to D-Day, where the Alies mounted a huge intellgenoe
 campaign to convince Htler that the planned sile of attack was going to be
 Calais and not Normandy (this was Operation Fortitude and you should
 absolulely look t up lor more Wacky WWll Adventures) Obviously you know
 how this ended
 crazly enough, the Abwenr never figured out that Pujol was a double agent
 After the war he recelved both the Iron Cross Second Class (which require
 personal authorization from Hitier), and a Member of the Order of the Brtish
 Empire (from King George Vi
 unable to resist being rotaly fucking ndiculous, Pujol tumed down MI5's post-war
 offer to continue spying, but this time against he USSR TO, he said just help
 me fake my own death and then I'm moving to Venezuela
 and thats exacly what he ad Juan Garcia Pujol died in 1988, at the age of 76
 Okay I'm just editing my reblog to add this picture of Juan Pujol Garcia because
 I feel that t adds so much to the story to picture him doing ALL THE ABOVE
 with this expression:
 what a legend
Juan Pujol Garcia:The first shitposter

Juan Pujol Garcia:The first shitposter

Wwll: GLOCK IS THE MOST RELIA. BITCH SHUTUPUNTI YOU WIN TWO WORLD WARS Pick one and explain why! BAM247 Totalbadassness GYSOT USAUSAUSA Freedom Merica Rah Yessir Glock 1911 WWll RedWhiteBlue StillBetterThanYou
Wwll: GLOCK IS
 THE MOST RELIA.
 BITCH SHUTUPUNTI
 YOU WIN TWO WORLD WARS
Pick one and explain why! BAM247 Totalbadassness GYSOT USAUSAUSA Freedom Merica Rah Yessir Glock 1911 WWll RedWhiteBlue StillBetterThanYou

Pick one and explain why! BAM247 Totalbadassness GYSOT USAUSAUSA Freedom Merica Rah Yessir Glock 1911 WWll RedWhiteBlue StillBetterThanYou