Asa Barker : Wattsberg, do you love your commanding officer? Finley Wattsberg : Well Asa Barker : That's fine, because I love you, too. Sign In. Play trailer Drama War. Director Ted Post. Top credits Director Ted Post. See more at IMDbPro. Trailer Trailer [OV]. Video Sneak Previews Season 4 Episode Photos Top cast Edit. Burt Lancaster Maj. Asa Barker as Maj.
Asa Barker. Craig Wasson Cpl. Stephen Courcey as Cpl. Stephen Courcey. Jonathan Goldsmith Sgt. Oleonowski as Sgt. Marc Singer Capt. Al Olivetti as Capt. Al Olivetti. Joe Unger Lt. Raymond Hamilton as Lt. Raymond Hamilton. Dennis Howard Cpl. Abraham Lincoln as Cpl.
Offers forty-three essays on popular expressions of diverse aspects of the Vietnam War, including women war correspondents, atrocities, desertion, and the Kent State shootings.
Vietnam at 24 Frames a Second. This book summarizes and briefly analyzes over films about the Vietnam War. The Spartans. Whitlock, Ph. University of Sparta Press, In the last decades of the 20th century, many predicted that the battlefield of the future would be one of swift and annihilating violence, ruled by an elaborate technology.
Instead, in one of history's many illustrations of the Law of Unintended Consequences, the 21st century saw military technology enter an era of stalemate. Cheap and accurate handheld missiles swept the air above the battlefield clear of manned aircraft; railguns, lasers and larger rockets did likewise for the upper atmosphere and near space. The elaborate dance of countermeasures made many sophisticated electronic devices so much waste weight; tailored viruses made networks of linked computers a recipe for battlefield chaos.
Paradoxically, many of the most sophisticated weapons could only be used against opponents who were virtually unarmed. By freezing technological research, the CoDominium preserved this situation like a fly in amber. Beyond Earth, the rarity and patchy development of industry exaggerated these trends in the colony worlds. CoDominium Marine expeditionary forces often operated at the end of supply lines many months long, with shipping space too limited for heavy equipment, on thinly settled planets where a paddle-wheel steamboat might represent high technology.
The Marines—and still more the independent mercenary companies—have been forced to become virtually self-sufficient.
Troops travel scores of light-years by starship, then march to battle on their own feet, and their supplies may be carted by mules. Artillery is priceless but scarce, and tanks so rare a luxury that the intervention of half a dozen might well decide a campaign. Infantry and the weapons they carry on their backs; machine guns and mortars and light rockets, have come into their own once more.
Apart from a few flourishes, body armor and passive nightsight goggles, the recent campaigns on Thurstone and Diego showed little that would have puzzled soldiers of the British Empire fighting the Boer War two centuries ago. The noon sun of Tanith beat down unmercifully as Falkenberg's Mercenary Legion stood to parade in the great central square of the regiment's camp; the stabilized earth was a dun red-brown under the orange haze above.
Behind the reviewing stand stood the Colonel's quarters; behind that the houses of the Company Officer's Line, then the wide street that separated them from Centurion's Row and the yellow rammed-earth barracks beyond. The jungle began just outside the dirt berm that surrounded the camp; a jungle that would reclaim the parade ground and all the huts in a single growing season once the hand of man was removed. The smell of that jungle filled the air, like spoiled bread and brewing beer and compost, heavy with life and rot.
A thick gobbling roar boomed through the still muggy air, the cry of a Weems Beast in the swamps below the hill. Men and women stood to rigid attention as the ritual continued. There had been a time when Peter Owensford found it difficult not to laugh at the parade ceremonies, originally intended to show Queen Anne's Mustermasters that the colonels had in fact raised and equipped regiments that could pass muster; but he had learned better.
In those days colonels owned their regiments as property. And it's not much different now. Trumpet notes pealed, and the Legion's officers, accompanied by guidon bearers, trooped forward to the reviewing stand. This too was ritual, once designed to show that the officers were properly uniformed and equipped. And I may be the only one here who knows that, Owensford thought.
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