Lifestyle Hardest white man ever?
- Thread starter SongExotic2
- Start date
James Bowie
Bowie became internationally famous as a result of a feud with Norris Wright, the sheriff of Rapides Parish. Bowie had supported Wright's opponent in the race for sheriff, and Wright, a bank director, had been instrumental in turning down a Bowie loan application.[32] After a confrontation in Alexandria one afternoon, Wright fired a shot at Bowie, after which Bowie resolved to carry his hunting knife at all times.[33] The knife he carried had a blade that was 9.25 inches (23.5 cm) long and 1.5 inches (3.8 cm) wide.[34]
A Bowie knife
The following year, on September 19, 1827, Bowie and Wright attended a duel on a sandbar outside of Natchez, Mississippi. Bowie supported duellist Samuel Levi Wells III, while Wright supported Wells's opponent, Dr. Thomas Harris Maddox. The duellists each fired two shots and, as neither man had been injured, resolved their duel with a handshake.[35][36] Other members of the groups, who had various reasons for disliking each other, began fighting. Bowie was shot in the hip; after regaining his feet he drew a knife, described as a butcher knife, and charged his attacker, who hit Bowie over the head with his empty pistol, breaking the pistol and knocking Bowie to the ground. Wright shot at and missed the prone Bowie, who returned fire and possibly hit Wright. Wright then drew his sword cane and impaled Bowie. When Wright attempted to retrieve his blade by placing his foot on Bowie's chest and tugging, Bowie pulled him down and disemboweled Wright with his large knife.[37][38] Wright died instantly, and Bowie, with Wright's sword still protruding from his chest, was shot again and stabbed by another member of the group. The doctors who had been present for the duel removed the bullets and patched Bowie's other wounds.[39]
so that Highlander documentary series was not one of those ridiculous discovery/history channel fictionaries?
Gene Moe
Even though hunting and fishing are considered by many folks to be as manly as cooking meat on badass charcoal grills or a football team that bases its entire offense around the Fullback Power Sweep, it may surprise you to find that I'm not a particularly huge animal-killing enthusiast. While I certainly appreciate the skill and patience that goes into the hobby and don't in any way intend to detract from it's supporters, the truth is that you will probably never see a Badass of the Week article written about a guy who shot a massive wild boar or caught a Jaws-sized shark or something. The way I see it, humanity has such a huge technological advantage over wildlife that it gives us an unfair advantage, and in your typical hunter-hunted encounter the wild beast is pretty much universally considered the underdog.
However, when a man goes up against a massive, insanely powerful creature in life-or-death hand-to-hand combat and emerges victorious, that's another story all together. That's exactly what happened to 68 year-old hunter Gene Moe while he was out hunting deer on Raspberry Island near Kodiak, Alaska. Gene had just killed a buck and was in the process of cleaning it with his pocketknife when all of a sudden he looked over his shoulder and saw a fucking gigantor 750-pound Kodiak grizzly bear lunge at him teeth-first in an attempt to consume poor Gene's entire face in one chomp. Gene never even heard the thing coming and in a split-second this bear had bitten a huge chunk out of his shoulder and started kicking his ass all over the place. Since Gene was in the process being slapped around like a bitch by this ginormous killing machine he had no time to run across the small clearing and grab his rifle, so he did the only thing he could - he started stabbing the shit out of this fucking bear with his stupid folding-blade pocketknife. Well it just so happens that bears don't appreciate being shivved in the neck like unpopular prison inmates, so this fucking thing proceeded to grab Gene by the fucking neck and chuck him eight feet through the air, where he crashed face-first into the dirt and snow. He immediately scrambled back to his feet as the bear closed on him, but before he could regain his "bear"ings (nyuk nyuk) the fucking thing smacked the shit out of him with its massive paw, sending him sprawling back down to the mat like Glass Joe taking a star-powered uppercut from Little Mac. Gene rolled over onto his back just as the fucking grizzly was throwing itself on top of him in an effort to crush him and/or pin him to the mat like Andre the Giant, but Gene was able to give it a double-leg kick at the last second and knock it off him. Both man and beast struggled back on their feet, and the bear then proceeded to bite the ever-loving shit out of Gene's leg with its giant honking Fangs of Flesh-Tearing +2. This only succeeded in making Gene even more pissed however, and he just started stabbing the fucking hell out of this thing. The bear backed off to a safe distance and began to slowly circle-strafe around Gene, looking for an opportunity to swoop in for the kill. At this point Gene was so fucked up that he could barely stand, but he was still balls-out enough to taunt the creature, yelling, "come on bear, the Lord is on my side!" Then he probably did that "come get some" hand gesture that Morpheus does in The Matrix.
The bear let out a roar, started foaming at the mouth like Old Yeller and lunged full-force at our beleagured survivalist. Gene responded by fucking punching the bear right in its stupid bear face with a massive left hook, sending it sprawling to the floor, where it lay motionless. That's right. This sixty year old tough-as-shit old man knocked a bear unconscious by punching it in the fucking mouth Punisher-style. In order to keep the creature from coming back and finishing him off, Gene had to shoot it twice in the chest.
TKO
But this is just the beginning of Gene Moe's story. Exhausted, terribly wounded and half-dead from his epic battle, he then started his long journey to safety. He grabbed his gear and slowly trudged through the thick Alaskan underbrush until his legs finally gave out and he fell into the thick snow. Unable to find the strength to stand, he crawled face-first through endless patches of pointy thistles, never willing to give up. Finally he decided to ditch any of the unnecessary gear that was weighing him down, including his rifle, and pulled himself back to his feet so he could continue to limp to safety. At one point during his journey he realized that he was being stalked by another bear (probably one that smelled his blood) so he was forced to remain completely motionless despite the agonizing pain he was in. However, despite all odds he managed to travel two miles back to the shore, where he was immediately rushed to the hospital by a Coast Guard helicopter.
It took seven hours of surgery, two skin grafts, one month of rehab and over five hundred stitches, but Gene Moe survived the ordeal. He had gone toe-to-toe with a seven hundred pound killing machine that possessed the strength of ten angry pickup trucks, managed to beat the holy living crap out of it using only his bare hands and a ten dollar pocketknife, army-crawled his way two miles to safety and lived to tell the tale. Fucking amazing. In true badass fashion, the first thing Gene Moe did after leaving the hospital was to recover the body of his slain enemy and have it mounted on the wall of his trophy room. Now that's a hunting tale that commands respect.
Badass of the Week: Gene Moe
well that was a very entertaining read
Simo Häyhä
In the winter of 1939, the Soviet Union was dicks. Russian Premier Josef Stalin thought it would be really fucking hilarious if he all of a sudden sent like two million of his dudes over to nearby Finland to start kicking everyone's asses and seizing whatever land he could get his borsch-covered hands on, while simultaneously kicking puppies and shouting profanities at inanimate objects in a vodka-and-caviar induced roid rage. While this may have been a laugh riot for Stalin and his numbnuts cronies, the Finnish people obviously were a little unhappy with the prospect of having all their cross-country skis, Winter Olympics gold medals and salmon fishing boats captured by a rampaging horde of godless commie bastards, so they decided to open an extra-large can of whoop-ass and give the Russkies the ballsack kicking they were apparently looking for.
Now when you think of Finland, the phrase "military powerhouse" isn't exactly the first thing that pops into your head. Likewise, when you looked at Simo Häyhä, a slight-framed Finnish farmer who didn't stand an inch over five feet tall, you also probably didn't think "total fucking unstoppable badass". Well let's just say that first impressions can be deceiving.
Simo was a member of a Finnish organization roughly equivalent to the minutemen of the American Revolution. He had done his state-mandated one-year term in the Finnish Army, reaching the rank of corporal, and was living a peaceful life in a farming village not far from the Russian border, spending his days farming, hunting, and crushing giant logs into sawdust with his bare hands. When the Soviets crossed the border into Finland with the expressed purpose of busting Finnish heads, Simo was called up into service. He went out to the wood shed behind his house, grabbed his old-school Russian-made Mosin-Nagant M28/30 rifle and headed out to take some commies behind a proverbial woodshed of his own.
Häyhä's specialty was his knowledge of the forests, his enduring patience and his impeccable rifle marksmanship. A sniper by trade, he would dress up in all-white camouflage, sneak through the woods with only a day's worth of food and couple clips of ammunition, and then lie in wait for any Russian stupid enough to wander into his killzone. His first battle-experience came in the hard-fought Kollaa campaign, where a severely outnumbered Finnish force bore the brunt of a large-scale Russian assault. Temperatures at this time ranged from -20 to -40 degrees Celsius, and the entire forest was covered with several feet of snow. While this played havoc on the inexperienced and under-equipped Russian invaders, the Finns were right at home in it because FINLAND IS FUCKING COLD AS SHIT ALL THE TIME and they're used to it there. Throughout this campaign, Häyhä basically just ran around doling out head-shots like the ice cream man gives out Dove bars on a hot sunny day in the Sahara desert. His personal best was fucking twenty-five kills in a single day. That's like an entire baseball team.
Throughout the Winter War (as it would come to be known), Simo Häyhä ran around being what experienced HALO players would call a "camping fag", and scoring enough kill shots to make fucking RoboCop and the Terminator hide their heads in shame. He would come to be known throughout the Russian Army as "The White Death", and at one point in the war they even went so far as to try and launch a couple of goddamned artillery strikes on locations at which they thought he might be hiding. That's desperation there - like even more desperate than a nymphomaniac babe at a convention for castrated male models.
After hearing about how much ass Häyhä was kicking out on the frozen tundra of eastern Finland with an antiquated bolt-action piece-of-shit rifle, the Finnish High Command decided to give him a special award: a custom-built Sako M2/28-30 Sniper Rifle of Headshots +3. He put this to good use, killing the ever-loving shit out of anyone that crossed him. On several occasions the Russians sent their own snipers to take him out, but Simo managed to win those duels every time. You see, Häyhä not only passed out long-range silent death to anyone with a red star on his hat, but he did it without the aid of a telescopic sight. He preferred to use the rifle's regular iron sights because it allowed him to present a smaller target, and because several of the commie snipers he moked out were given away by a glint of light reflecting off the lenses of their scopes. He obviously didn't want to fall to this fate, so he went balls-out and wasted assholes the old-fashioned (and unarguably the more hardcore) way.
Finally, on 2 March 1940, some Soviet bastard got a lucky shot off and popped Simo Häyhä in the jaw with an explosive bullet. Häyhä fell into a coma and was pulled off the field by his comerades. He would finally awake eleven days later, on the same day that the Winter War ended. He would go on to live to the ripe old age of 97.
The Winter War ended as a victory for Finland. The Red Army captured a mere 22,000 square miles of territory and lost close to one million men, more than forty times the number of Finnish casualties. Simo Häyhä received five medals for valour, including the prestigious Kollaa Cross, and was express-promoted from corporal to second lieutenant. Throughout the war, Häyhä raked in a total of 505 confirmed sniper kills (in some sources he is credited with 542). On top of this, he also mowed down two hundred men with a Suomi 9mm submachine gun, bringing his total kill count to over 700 men in under 100 days.
Nobody in history has ever been credited with more confirmed kills than Simo Häyhä. He was an unlikely war hero who used patience, cunning and precision to defend his country, his home, his people and his freedom from communist totalitarian oppression. He was an unstoppable killing machine the likes of which the world has never known before or since.
MORE top-shelf reading!
"a slight-framed Finnish farmer who didn't stand an inch over five feet tall"------BIG WIN
".......his impeccable rifle marksmanship"-------so does that mean FULL spray auto like in the action films or a selective use of assault weapon operation?
Sniper
when
@Splinty see that, he's going to jump to the top of the Hardest Man list.
M
member 3289
Guest
