Feminine Gray-backs

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Feminine Gray-backs

                

The story you are about to read can be placed in the category of fiction, legend or reality, as you wish, but you are invited to read first and consider afterward.  Surely we are all familiar with the story of the lost Confederate Soldiers and their families who were among several groups departing the Confederacy after the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia.  These groups traveled to Brazil, two of them established colonies one of which thrives today, but the third disappeared forever.  This is a story of that third group and how it may still weld a powerful influence in the world today!
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There are some areas which my heart, let along my principles, will not allow me to travel, that being the case, in covering this story it must be stated boldly, “I do not believe in female warriors” regardless of all the women’s rights that are claimed; since women who pursue such a masculine course tread upon divine principles as laid down in the Holy Scriptures.
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Nonetheless in the world we live in, I have seen and heard things in my lifetime, which would send cold chills of terror up the spins of our modern day ‘would be female warriors.’  There are boundaries which women’s liberation cannot cross and our ladies should not be fooled by the fantasy of Hollywood’s images of the super women overwhelming any numbers of men with a few kicks and punches, while wearing leotards, black leather tights or else tank top and levis.
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We all live in the real world, not a blood and guts movie of super women!   This statement may seem harsh to a segment of our ladies and even some of our men, but it is made in the spirit of concern for so many women, who are negatively and profoundly effected by the ‘Super Women’ image.  None-the-less this particular choice is for the ladies to make; it is doubtful that my own limited influence will have any effect on the outcome!

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We turn our attention toward the men who should be the ones, which get the job done, or else our Confederate women may find it necessary to pick up the gauntlet, and fight in your stead.  Somewhere out there, if the legends are true, exits a modest size army of Confederate Amazon Warriors; join with us now as we enter the world of
‘Feminine Gray-backs, Master Guerilla Tacticians.’
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Feminine Gray-backs

Amazon Warriors - Master Guerilla Tacticians
"Beyond Special Forces"

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Legend has it that this lost tribe of Confederates set up an encampment in the Amazon Jungle whereupon after a couple generations had passed, the men as well as the women forged an exceedingly powerful army of guerilla fighters; originally the women were to be a kind of reserve or home defense.  However, a large percentage of the men became partially disabled as a result of skirmishes, added to the obvious dangers of the jungle, such as poison snakes, spiders and plants.  The women on the other hand, having exercised their prowess as the last line of defense grew ever stronger.  Thus was born the legend of the Confederate Amazon Warriors, Feminine Gray-backs, Master Guerilla Tacticians!
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These Feminine Gray-backs were believed to have, in part, moved back to the Southern States shortly after the Korean War, in an effort to establish a headquarters in the Confederacy, as well as find suitable men who could match their own prowess, thereby widening the gene pool, least their group fade into extinction.  This lost tribe of Confederates resisted the idea of intermarrying and bearing children with the native or Brazilian peoples, preferring rather their own Confederate people.  Lastly it should be remembered, these ladies did not consider themselves United States Citizen, but duel citizens of the Confederate States and Brazil in that order.
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An old friend of mine whom I hadn’t seen in a quite a while was sharing this story with my family and I in our home, over a coke and pizza; naturally it was considered totally preposterous.  He also relayed to us the second half of the story, which told of a conflict between several hundred A.T.F. S.W.A.T. Agents and a dozen mysterious ‘Female Warriors’ he later discovered, were members of the lost Confederate tribe of Brazil.  The S.W.A.T. Agents quite naturally believed they had the advantage, both in numbers and firepower; they were sadly mistaken, as a result only five of them survived to report the story to their headquarters, none of the women were ever killed, injured or captured.

Thursday 16 September 2004

The Blue Ridge Mountains 

“The following is a replay of what is said to have happened in the backwoods of northeastern Tennessee not far from Johnston at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains.  My friend will be known simply as Jack Cleburne together with his friends John and Joe McPherson, both are brothers.”
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It was early morning before daylight, about 4:30 A.M. and my friends Jack, John and Joe had met me at my home in Johnston for a planned hunting trip into the back woods.  There are still some areas which are relatively untouched by humans, therefore the hunting is quite excellent and the Park Rangers are for the most part, no where to be seen.   We were warned a few days in advance by a few local ‘good ole boys’ that a company of militia was encamped somewhere in those woods, so caution was the order of the day.  These militiamen were quite approachable and as far as anyone knew operated well within the law; still they had very little love for the ‘feds’ as they like to call them.
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The four of us left home and headed down the highway, playing a few ‘truckers’ songs on the CD player and singing along with the music; our minds at that time was focused on having a good time.  We now knew the militia was out there somewhere but for the most part they were friends of ours, they were ‘well armed’ and while we had no problem with them, the ‘feds’ were known to have a bone to pick.  We could not foresee what lay ahead, only that we figured on bring back a big buck deer so as to do a lot eating as well as considerable amount of boasting.  It wasn’t long before we had turned off the highway and onto a secondary back road, which lead to an old dirt trail and ultimately to our chosen hunting area.
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We finally left the secondary road and turned onto a not so well traveled dirt trail leading into the backcountry; from here on we needed to be on full alert, not so much for something purposeful that might happen, but guarding against an accidental shooting that no one wanted.  We made preparations, reviewed our signals, then spread out across an open place in the woods and moved forward.  Several hours had passed when we paused after hearing what sounded like rapid fire in the distance; we backtracked to a safe distance.  Realizing this was no time for coffee shop whoppers, we decided to send our best tracker and woodsman forward to scout the trail ahead; that was Joe McPherson.
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If there was any game hidden in the woods Joe could fine it and bring it home for lunch; it had been said of him, that he was the only man in these parts which could slip up on a wild rabbit and pick him up before the critter was even aware of his presence.  Joe moved out and very quickly disappeared into the brush, where even we could not locate him.  He was gone for what seemed like a very long time when he was spotted exiting the thickets not far away.  He seemed to be exceedingly shaken, so much so that we were most eager to ask of him what had taken place; “y’all got to come with me quickly, he said; there’s a war going on, I am not sure but it looks as if the militia and the feds have open fire on each other."
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Joe gave us a few instruction, among them was that we should never follow the same trail twice; you will leave unintended markers for any potential enemy.  Another was a warning against taking anything with you, which could possibly fall onto the ground or attached itself onto a twig or bush, and above all else make no more noise then a feather falling to the ground.   We all decided that being as quiet as he had indicated would surely prove impossible, none the less we made every attempt, as we followed him through the woods in the direction of where Joe reported to have heard the rapid fire, which seemed to have fallen silent for the present time.  We soon arrived at the position he had described; now we all knew why Joe so vehemently warned us against making noise!
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We had come to a clearing in the woods and spotting the militia encampment in the center; they had built breastworks of sorts, while intending it strictly for training purposes, it regretfully was now being used in their own meager defense.  The shots Joe had hear was no doubt the ‘feds’ exchanging warning shots with them, intended as a demonstration of their power and authority and now they had paused in order to give the militia an opportunity to surrender.  The S.W.A.T. Agents was obviously preparing to show these ‘good ole boys’ they were boss.  They were dressed in combat black uniforms with bulletproof vests and were armed well enough, they no doubt could hold off a very formidable enemy.
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The A.T.F. S.W.A.T. was obviously finished with the preliminaries and they began to move forward; as they did the scenario changed; rapid fire was coming from behind the S.W.A.T. but from where?  Who ever this third force was, they had somehow managed to fire at the ‘feds’ without a single stray shot hitting the encamped militia.  The militiamen spontaneously ceased fire in be wonderment, deciding the best choice was to duck behind their breastworks and wait for further developments.  The ‘feds’ turned towards their rear and were now facing outward from the encirclement and exchanging fire with some unknown enemy, hidden in the dense thickets.
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Unknown to the ‘feds’ the exchange of fire was a diversion; an enormous display of trickery was about to be unleashed upon them, the likes of which would have made the Vietcong seem like amateurs.  Obviously the five of us were positioned beyond this third force or else they were purposefully bypassing our meager few, would be hunters.  After a period time we spotted three of what we could only describe as ‘Female Warriors’ well prepared for the mission in which they had engaged.  We dared not move, least we are caught in the middle of this three-way skirmish.
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We were close enough yet far enough away, but we could certainly perceive the exchange of gun fire between these ‘Female Warriors’ and the ‘feds’ but there was more; somehow these ladies had entrapped the ‘feds’ on three sides with an almost web of entangled shrubs, thistles and vines, leaving their only avenue of escape to be a frontal attack on the militia.  The ‘Female Warriors’ had somehow managed to muffled the sound of their weapons fire; we could hear them only because our proximity.  There were also other unique entrapments, which were out of our sight; we became aware of them only due to the federal agents hollered out in pain.
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Many police forces have gooey substances which they fire at an assailant in order to entrap them; these ladies were no exception, accept theirs were home made jungle style and seemingly many times more effective.  The also had their own means of neutralizing modern cell phones and radios, which gave reason as to why the ‘feds’ were not calling in their reserves.  Mysteriously, the five of us weren’t sure as to whether the ‘feds’ were even aware as to whom they were fighting.  These ‘Confederate Female Warriors’ were ‘guerilla’ warfare masters and had over several generations come to understand and make effective use of those items found in the wilderness.
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The ‘feds’ were soon either subdued by the guerilla tactics or else by a fear as to what other tactics this new enemy had up his sleeve; they were certainly faced with something even Hollywood could not match.  Then seemingly out of nowhere several ladies appeared in front of them dressed a very well tailored military camouflage uniforms much like a jump suit, black leather ammo belts and bandoleers around both shoulders crisscrossed to the waste.  The Confederate Battle Flag Insignia clearly emblazoned on their shoulder pads!  One of them stepped forward and jerked the rifle out of the hands of the ‘fed’ commander; “you boys should be home playing in the sand box.  What are you doing out here bothering these good people?”
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Another ‘Female Warrior’ appeared and while their commander was dealing with the ‘fed’ commander they were rounding up the ‘feds’ weapons and placing them in a stack.  One of them then drew a pistol, which appeared much like a flare gun; accept it fired a similar gel as does incendiary bombs, much like unto paint balls.  The A.T.F. weapons were quickly turned to junk in a very short space of time!  The commander of the militia, seeing the ‘feds’ were disarmed, walked out from the encampment about that time and confronted the four women; not realizing there were many more of them out there somewhere, acting as back up security.
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The ‘fed’ commander may not have know either, but he was certain these ladies were not alone; he thus ask where her other troops were and to that she replied, “They aren’t needed on such a small mission.”   As it turned out the militia was as astonished as the ‘feds’ but even more so because they couldn’t imagine what they had done that warranted a full force military attack upon them.  The lady was then asked; who are you people anyhow?   “Let us say, answered the Feminine Gray-back Commander, your worst nightmare, if you return later to harass these people.  Should you violate my warning, your troops will not receive such a cordiale reception the next time; you understand that little boy.”
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Are you calling this little meeting an official surrender on our part; “no, we do not accept surrenders or take prisoners and we leave burring the dead to others.”  The A.T.F. Commander giving his name as ‘James Benson’, which was probably an alias, became even more determined at the thought of a hand full of women, overwhelming federal power.  It was determined that Commander Benson’s dislike of the militias had more to do with their preference for all things Confederate and Southern, then for any minor arms infraction.  Thus he nitpicked until he found fault where in there really was none!
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Once the ‘feds’ were complete disarmed, the brief talking completed and the militias in control of the situation, the ladies began to withdraw back into the woods; on the way out they called out to the five of us; “You can come out of your hiding place now, y’all are perfectly safe!”  Realizing they knew about us all along, we came out of hiding and confronted these unknown ‘Female Warriors.’  The commander introduced herself by the common name of Julie Henderson, “Don’t you remember, I am the girl you flirted with at the coffee shop a week ago.”  How many of you are there and where are your men, I ask, “There are 3,000 of us in the states, 300 in Tennessee and our men remain back at our Amazon colony.”
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Our men are recovering from many years, indeed generations of conflict and are even now completing their own series of genetic treatments; in the meantime it was decided the women could best manage this mission.  We also ask the ladies if they were ever going to transfer their colony back to the States; “Only when the people here are prepared to rise up in sufficient numbers, she replied; we together with our men will then return to form the spearhead and help bring about the liberation.  It is important that the people themselves want this to happen deeply enough to where the do more then merely sit behind a computer, otherwise the few of us are helpless in making it happen.”
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We spoke for what must have been 15 minutes and learned their strength came from a combination of the living in the jungle as well as genetic engineering over the past couple generations.  We also learned that the lost Confederate Tribe became experts at using whatever items might be on hand at any given moment, then altering it to meat their needs.  Thus they turned napalms into hand-fired shells much like a paint ball, which has proven to be quite effective.  They then used technology such as heat censors and stealth to create uniforms and equipment that allow the wearer to become nearly invisible to the enemy.
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                          Saturday 9 October 2004
                             The Tempting of Fate  .

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The ‘feds’ patiently waited until the militias was encamped, located their exact location and prepared to move in for the second time; no one was going to show them up in such a dramatic way.  They were certain all things were ready, even to the point of having heat sensors to detect those ‘Female Warriors’ wherever they may choose to hide.  This time our four man team was invited to join the militiamen, we found them to be neighborly, disciplined and not at all violent; their having formed a militias was more then anything else a reason to enjoy the great outdoors.  Yet the ‘feds’ had to have the last say; so while the militia put the previous confrontation behind them, the ‘feds’ was plotting another attack.
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Whatever their thoughts the ‘feds’ ignored the ‘Feminine Gray-back Commanders’ warning, but this time they chose the middle of the night to launch their attack.  Using night goggles, inferred laser aiming devices, they surrounded the encampment and demanded the militia lay down their arms and march out of in single file with their hands over their heads.  There is no one on earth who could even guess as to how these ‘Female Warriors’ manage to elude heat sensors, inferred aiming devices and night goggles.  But this time they brought a much larger force!

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From inside the encampment we had the advantage of 360-degree view as well as an excellent clear sight of the sky above.  Again Jack Cleburne, John and Joe McPherson as well as myself were together, this time we were not on any hunting trip.  After an evening of more pleasantries then military drills, it being late, we all settled down and attempted to get some sleep.  The militia like any true militia posted guards on shifts; it was approximately 2:00 A.M. when the guards alerted us as to the presence of approaching intruders.  It didn’t require first hand knowledge to know who they were, the A.T.F.  S.W.A.T. had returned.

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Everyone awoke immediately and within about five minutes had reported to their posts along the breastworks, above our heads we could hear the sound of choppers, both Jack and myself being military veterans knew the distinct sound; they were two Black Hawks.  They were no doubt loaded for a full-scale attack on the militia, but now the four of us would be directly in the middle of the target area.  Along the perimeter of trees we could hear the rapid fire from the S.W.A.T. Agents, but to our surprise they were obviously aimed outward, just as on the previous occasion.
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It did not take long before the ‘Female Warriors’ had overwhelmed the ‘S.W.A.T. Agent, and moved into the open area between the encampment and the perimeter of trees.  Immediately, in the dim light of early morning, we could see and hear as they aimed some kind of unusual weapons skyward.  This weapon did not make any sound with which we were familiar, but it sounded like a whining pulsation, which obviously did what it was intended; the sound of the Black Hawks ceased and they both fell from the sky.  My guess was that these weapons were some kind of Magnetic weapon, which interfered with the electronics of the choppers.
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The S.W.A.T. Agents the ‘Female Warriors’ did not kill outright, they managed to finish off in couple rounds of hand-to-hand combat of sorts, and their performance could be considered the envy of any black belt karate team.  They somehow managed to save the ‘fed’ commander for last and the lady commander approach him in the dim light of the moon.  “You seem to either have poor hearing or perhaps you are mentally deficient, we gave amble warning, yet you did not heed; now you will need around 300 body bags and a public explanation as to how a few women warriors managed to overwhelm your superior federal force.  Hear me again and listen to me with greater focus then before; leave these people alone!”
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The commander then reached over and took hold of the ‘fed’ commanders right hand and crushed it like one would a raw egg, while he was moaning in pain she crushed the other hand.   These people have never once came after you people, yet you continue to harass them; it appears as if the only danger of gun ownership is when they are in you people’s possession.  Now go and find an honest way to make a living before a worse thing happen to you and your kind.  The incident ended and the militia once more went on its way, but the federals managed to bury the story, along side tales of area 51 and flying saucers.
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                            Comments 

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The entire incident gradually became a strange tale people would tell while stopping by for breakfast or lunch at the local coffee shop, but considered to be little more then a fantastic whopper that could bring a few stares and maybe even a few jokes.  But those of us who were there on both occasions know the difference, an army of Feminine Warriors, that while lovely in every respect, had the strength to crush the hands of a fully mature, physically fit outdoorsman.  Additionally these women could evade everything thrown against them, including heat sensors and digital photography, and then disappear whenever it suited their needs.
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We have no ideas whatever as to what happened to this female guerilla force, but an entire street gang was found dead, dying or seriously injured; no doubt they figured to rape, rob and murder these ladies and found they had bitten off more then they could chew.  There are many of my friends who believe this particular path of carnage is the work of the Confederate Amazon Warriors, in any case the unknown perpetrators were never found and no one was ever prosecuted.  The few surviving gang members refused to return to their former life style and even moved out of the neighborhood; they claimed the ladies simply disappeared afterward.

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God save the Confederacy

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Let us take a look at some of the ways in which these traditional women are denied a true choice!  How many of our females have been made fun and sneered at, when they wear a dress or else skirt and blouse to school, college or work?   How many ignore such women or refuse to include them among their friends and associates, pegging them as being old fashioned, out of touch or fanatics.
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How many of our Confederate and Southern females, simply refuse to lay aside their levis, t-shirts or tank tops, and would decline to wear the traditional women women’s cloths, even in those situations where doing so would advance the Confederate Cause? 
The persistence of these far left radical liberal women has permanently altered the popular culture; to the degree that political correctness has now become in effect, mandatory.

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Those who refused to act, dress and participate in the lifestyle of the radical women’s liberationist culture, and support their agenda, are ostracized or ridiculed until they conform.  This is not freedom of choice but tyranny, inflicted through the use of political correctness and peer pressure.  Very few women have the inter strength, or even the will to stand up to such overwhelming odds; minus these pressures, the modern women’s liberation culture would likely collapse.
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It should be remembered, that we live in the real world, not a blood and guts movie of super women!   This statement may seem harsh to a segment of our ladies, but it is made in the spirit of concern for so many women, who are negatively and profoundly effected by the ‘Super Women’ image.  None-the-less this particular choice is for the ladies to make; it is doubtful that my own influence will have any affect whatsoever on the ultimate outcome of future history.   We therefore turn our attention toward the men and it should be made clear, gentlemen get the job done, or else our Confederate women may find it necessary to pick up the gauntlet and fight in your stead.
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