Saturday, November 10, 2012

An Open Letter

There has been a downfall in morale in the militia community since the recent election. Brothers and Sisters, keep your heads up and your powder dry. You are not alone, you will have companionship in your final days. Please read the attached open letter below.


The United States Militias are with you. Do not despair, do not relent. We welcome the

removal of masks and the hardness of truth. You are not alone. We were here when it all started.

We have paid in blood and tears for thirty years, as many of you now realize you will have to pay.

Do not let fear drive you. Do not give up five minutes before the miracle occurs. You are not

beaten until you are in the cold hard ground. Do not hide. Do not give up one inch. Go boldly into

the fray with faith in your heart and a song on your lips. You, the Patriots of this age are our Sinn

Fein, we need you to stand. And in standing, become the stone that can not be moved. Find the

Militia in your State, you will find a brotherhood that the Marxists and the Corrupt can not

match. You will be welcomed, you will be educated, you will be trained to be an effective freedom


“We are what our forefathers envisioned, strong-willed,and self-reliant. We are the legacy they

fought to build. We are not anti-government, We are anti-corruption. We are not anti-immigrant,

We are pro-citizenship. We are not separatists, We are Constitutionalists. We know our history

and revere it, We love our country and fear for it. We are your mechanics, and your insurance

agents. Your police and your firefighters. We are your neighbors. We are Citizens and We are the



Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?

Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?

I’ve stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains

I’ve walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highways

I’ve stepped in the middle of seven sad forests

I’ve been out in front of a dozen dead oceans

I’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard

And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, and it’s a hard

And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?

Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?

I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it

I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it

I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin’

I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin’

I saw a white ladder all covered with water

I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken

I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children

And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard

And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?

And what did you hear, my darling young one?

I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin’

Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world

Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin’

Heard ten thousand whisperin’ and nobody listenin’

Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin’

Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter

Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley

And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard

And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?

Who did you meet, my darling young one?

I met a young child beside a dead pony

I met a white man who walked a black dog

I met a young woman whose body was burning

I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow

I met one man who was wounded in love

I met another man who was wounded with hatred

And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard

It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

Oh, what’ll you do now, my blue-eyed son?

Oh, what’ll you do now, my darling young one?

I’m a-goin’ back out ’fore the rain starts a-fallin’

I’ll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest

Where the people are many and their hands are all empty

Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters

Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison

Where the executioner’s face is always well hidden

Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten

Where black is the color, where none is the number

And I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it

And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it

Then I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’

But I’ll know my song well before I start singin’

And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard

It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall


Approved by the Commanders of the following Militia Units:

Ohio Valley Minutemen- Citizen’s Volunteer Militia- (OH&WV)

Tomball Militia – (Tomball TX)

South East Michigan Volunteer Militia- (MI)

Western Kansas Militia, A Co.- (KS)

Texas Lightfighters 3/5- (TX)

Northwest Washington Recon- (WA)

Georgia Militia- (GA)

South East Constitutional Militias- Charter Oaks Group- (FL)

Southern Ohio Volunteers- (OH)

Indiana Sentinels- (IN)

Illinois Sons of Liberty- (IL)

42nd Field Force, 63rd Bn Eastern Washington Light Foot Militia- (WA)

Northern California State Militia- (CA)

Miami Valley Militia- (OH)

Illinois Militia- (IL)


rd Kentucky Volunteer Infantry-A Co.- (KY)


th CERT/17TH SOG- (KY)

Tennessee Defense Force- (TN)

Colorado 1

st Patriots Defense Force- (CO)

Allegheny Rangers Militia- (PA)

Copies sent to an additional 46 Militia Units Nationwide