Darfur - A real Tomahawk Adventure

“Immediately when you arrive in Sahara, for the first or the tenth time, you notice the stillness. An incredible, absolute silence prevails outside the towns; and within, even in busy places like the markets, there is a hushed quality in the air, as if the quiet were a conscious force which, resenting the intrusion of sound, minimizes and disperses sound straightaway."
 
~ Paul Bowles

I was at home in Arizona, when I got a call from a recruiter about a job in Darfur, Africa, I would be working as a weapons armorer for a Military contract company. Subcontracted by the UN to perform maintenance on the weapons, used by the African Union Soldiers who were providing security for the food convoys. UNMID or United Nations Mission In Darfur. And AMIS, African Mission In (the) Sudan, were responsible for security in the region.

It took me less than a minute to say I was very interested in the position and could deploy immediately.

After the mountain of paperwork was completed and my shot record was in order, I boarded a plane in Tucson for Atlanta, of course the flight was late so I nearly missed my British Airways connection to London, I was in fact the last person to board the flight.

We flew into London and I had about ½ an hour to make my connecting flight for Nairobi, Kenya. I barely made that flight also but eventually after 22 hours total flying time from Tucson I finally made it to Nairobi.

As bad luck would have it my bag did not arrive at the same time I did so I had no clean clothing, no camera, no cell phone, and no power cord for my laptop. Bummer!
After letting the airport baggage folks know my bag was not there I proceeded through customs and passport control and was met by the company representative who had a car waiting.

He drove me to the Safe house in Nairobi and I took a nap for a few hours. After waking up and feeling a bit rested I searched out the kitchen and pilfered some coffee to make a brew.

That was a million dollar cup of coffee as I recall, and I went out to the garden, sat on the patio and watched the local folks walking by going to work.

As I sat there drinking my Javva I realized that I was finally in Africa - “the continent of adventure” as one of my friends once said.  The  neighborhood was pretty and I noticed that every house had a fire place and a garden. The homes looked more like cottages. This neighborhood must have been left over from the British colonial period.

Anyhoo, having no shaving kit and no clean clothes I went to see the company rep who gave me a $500.00 advanced per dium payment.

I swung my timbuk2 messenger bag over my shoulder and headed for the compound gate. After exchanging pleasantries and asking a few questions of the local Kenyan security guard I went out the gate turned left and went searching for a taxi.

After walking about 20 mins I located a mall and a currency exchange where I converted my US dollars to Kenyan shillings. There was an Ethiopian restaurant across the way so I went there and bought some breakfast, good coffee and good food but I didn’t know how to eat in the Ethiopian style so I had to get a spoon to continue my meal.

After the meal I went to the taxi stand and hired a driver named Rufus, he quoted me a price for a 2 hour tour of the city which sounded reasonable so I agreed and we headed out.

Nairobi is a pretty city and I saw lots of gardens, and we did a drive by of the Massai market then went to a smaller market where I could buy some clothing.
Then we drove to a department store where I bought some towels, razors and other toiletries.

After farting around Nairobi for a while I asked Rufus to drop me back at the company house so I could check on things there and find out my status.
After speaking to the company rep again she informed me that I would be in Nairobi for 4 days until my Sudanese temp visa was approved by their embassy.

Damn! The prospect of staying at the company house for 4 days was pretty grim to me. It was a dirty shit hole full of dissatisfied company employees and no privacy at all.

My luggage still had not arrived so I grabbed my timbuk2 bag and headed out . I walked to the Mall again, found Rufus and asked him about accommodations like a bed and breakfast type thing.

Rufus told me he had a cousin that managed a time share condo and I might be able to rent one for a few days, so we went there and I managed to rent a room for the remainder of my time in Nairobi.

After dropping off my junk in the condo, I took a long shower, put on my new clothes then hit the door, I walked around for a while and located a net café where I printed out some papers I needed, bought some lunch, had a cup of coffee and did a lot of girl watching.

As I recall Kenya had a lot of pretty ladies of all colors.

Feeling a bit tired I returned to my room, made a gin and tonic and flipped through the TV channels for a while, I must have passed out from either exhaustion or from the booze but I woke up several hours later feeling hungry.

It was pretty late or early depending on your perspective but I was extremely hungry and tried very hard to locate an all night delivery service via the telephone. The security guards told me that there was nothing close by and all shops were closed, Damn! But, I was told there was free food and coffee in the main kitchen of the condo complex.

I went to the kitchen and got a few rolls and some coffee and returned to my room. Later on I walked to the company house to check in and see if my luggage had arrived.
The rest of my time in Kenya was about the same, my luggage didn’t arrive until the day I left for Sudan and in fact I had to pick it up at the airport before checking it in for my flight to Khartoum.

I checked into Kenya airlines for my next flight to Sudan then went on a stroll around the airport shops. I bought some wine gums candies and a rough guide tour book about the Sudan, it was a good book but I cannot remember the title.
Upon arrival in Khartoum I passed through immigration and customs and was immediately accosted by all types of local guys bugging me to carry my bag.

There were 2 Nepalese gentlemen Mr. Krishna and Mr. Podel who were traveling with me who were working for the same company. We went outside and finally found our company representative who was suppose to meet us inside at baggage claim but who was of course late!

Man, I remember the heat of Khartoum and all of the noise; I was reminded of other countries like Kuwait and Qatar. I cannot say I really liked it very much.
The driver dropped me off at my designated safe house then took my Nepalese friends to their accommodations in another neighborhood.

I introduced myself to Randy who was the manager of the safe house and our Maid Rose Leku Lojong, a very nice and pretty Sudanese lady.

There were also some other employees there who were in transit to and from the forward operating bases. I met Hermie from the camp I was going to; he is one of the greatest welders and metal smiths I have ever seen.

The other guys were from different FOB’s and camps around all of Darfur. I was heading for the camp at Nyala Darfur which was the largest camp in the southern sector of Darfur and the town of Nyala is the capitol of southern Darfur.

After a couple of days in Khartoum Hermie and me along with several other folks boarded a Russian AN-26 airplane and flew to Al Fasher the capitol of Northern Darfur.

We had a lot of supplies and groceries to unload so upon arrival we were met by other people from our company, after loading up the vehicles we headed for the tiny camp of Zamzam.

Hermie and I ended up staying in Zamzam for 5 days, it was ok for me tho because I got all of my reimbursement paperwork turned in and took care of all of my admin stuff.

I had a tent to myself an, air conditioner, plus the Internet technology guy hooked me up with a wireless sign in code. I was in business!

I was working on a Canadian Department of defense contract so there was a small detachment of Canadian Army guys and gals there. We were allowed access to their vast DVD movie collection so I just stayed in my tent watching movies during the hottest part of the day.

My habit was to wake up early and go for a run around the perimeter on the camp inside the wire. I was surprised to feel how cool it was in the mornings there in northern Darfur. Being from Arizona and having worked in the Middle East for 2 years I was use to extreme hot temperatures; Darfur heat was nothing thus far.

After about 5 days or so we boarder a soviet made An-28 STOL aircraft and flew for about an hour to the airport at Nyala, Darfur. We were met by Andrew in the company vehicle and after loading all of our plunder we headed for the camp.

I was given a tent which had an air conditioner, a wall locker a small file cabinet and a really shitty bunk which squeaked each time I moved.

After stowing my gear/plunder I met the work shop manager and was given the rest of the day off to get my things sorted. I cleaned and mopped out my tent, hung my mozzy net, set up my laptop with an internet connection; thanks to the IT guy.

We had a communal kitchen, weight room/gym, TV and internet room and our own Toilet and shower facilities which we kept locked at all times to keep out the rif raf.
I was liking what I saw so far.

Later on in the day I went to the mess hall and got signed up with a meal ticket and met the lead cook/catering manager – a cool guy.

After making myself a cup of stout coffee I took a walk around the camp perimeter inside the wire to lay out a jogging course, after pacing it out I found that according to my pace count, the perimeter was approximately 1 mile(1,700 meters) in length, that was good, I only need to jog it 2 or 3 times to get my workout in.

I slept pretty good that night but I can recall hearing lots of gunfire outside the berm toward the area of the refugee camps. It was pretty much the same every night, sounded like AK-47 and Chicom .50 mostly. You kinda got use to it. Also, I was again surprised to feel how cool it got after dark, I rarely used my AC at all during the night.

At night and in the early morning Even tho the temperatures were in the upper 60’s to low 70’s I would see The Nigerian soldiers dressed up in wooly pully sweaters and watch caps like they were experiencing winter in Montana, I kinda got a kick out of that. I also saw them wearing the old ww2 style British army issue wool great coats.

Anyhoo, I flew out the next morning on my first weapons inspection mission to the camp at Zalinje via an old soviet MI-8 (widow maker) helicopter.

It was a pretty camp and we were able to buy some decent citrus fruit due to the fact that Zalinje was famous locally for its fruits and veggies. We stocked up on many varieties.

Over the next few months I went on many missions all over southern Darfur where I encountered many good and not so good people. I was very impressed with the high standards of military soldiery which the Rwandan troops held them selves to; their weapons, equipment, vehicles and uniforms were always maintained to the highest standards. It was in stark contrast to the way the Nigerians acted as soldiers.

Anyway, the town of Nyala which is the capitol of southern Darfur is about as 3rd world as you can get. It had one paved road badly in need of maintenance, one stop light that everyone ignores, scores of horse and donkey carts and people galore.

I kinda liked the chaos tho and got a chuckle out of the vendors selling foods clearly stamped “This food is a gift from the people of the United States” – “Not for sale”.

I guess they could not read English.

One thing I found annoying about Sudan is that cameras were illegal except with special permit. We had a camera for taking pictures of damaged equipment and as my partner was checking it inside the helicopter before we took off, a Sudanese special police officer came on board and confiscated it. My partner was subsequently fired for having the camera even tho it was a company camera used for work purposes – go figure.

I really enjoyed my stay there and would welcome the opportunity to return to The Sudan or just anywhere in Africa –“The continent of adventure”.

The men who dont fit in ; by Robert Service

The Men Who Don't Fit In by Robert Service

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There's a race of men that don't fit in,
A race that can't stay still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
And they roam the world at will.
They range the field and they rove the flood,
And they climb the mountain's crest;
Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood,
And they don't know how to rest.

If they just went straight they might go far;
They are strong and brave and true;
But they're always tired of the things that are,
And they want the strange and new.
They say: "Could I find my proper groove,
What a deep mark I would make!"
So they chop and change, and each fresh move
Is only a fresh mistake.

And each forgets, as he strips and runs
With a brilliant, fitful pace,
It's the steady, quiet, plodding ones
Who win in the lifelong race.
And each forgets that his youth has fled,
Forgets that his prime is past,
Till he stands one day, with a hope that's dead,
In the glare of the truth at last.

He has failed, he has failed; he has missed his chance;
He has just done things by half.
Life's been a jolly good joke on him,
And now is the time to laugh.
Ha, ha! He is one of the Legion Lost;
He was never meant to win;
He's a rolling stone, and it's bred in the bone;
He's a man who won't fit in.

-Robert William Service

The last Apache Scouts by Tomahawk

Here is an excerpt from the Tomahawk Scout Field manual. If you are interested in the book, you can purchase it as a print on demand book at this link; https://www.createspace.com/5079312

With an Introduction by Snake Blocker a fellow warrior and scout of the 1st order.

The last Apache Scouts, In 1922 the last U.S. Army Indian scouts were sent from Fort Bowie, AZ to Fort Huachuca, these Scouts lived in and worked all over the Huachuca Mountains in the same stomping grounds that I have camped and hiked in over the past few years. On Post , you can still visit the Scout camp along Huachuca creek where they had their wikiups set up for their respective families. It is a pretty spot with many large Native Sycamore and oak trees with beautiful views of the surrounding hills.

I have parked my car there many times to stretch out before a run up and down the Canyon trails, it is one of my favorite spots on base and I can understand why the Indian Scouts like it too. I have seen and held in my hands a Sharps carbine rifle(the same one Sinew is holding in the picture) that belonged to Staff Sergeant Sinew J. Reilly who was the highest ranking Non Commissioned Officer(NCO) for the Scouts. This rifle was in the possession of a friend of mine for safe keeping, as I held it I could feel the history of it in my hands and I could imagine SSG Reilly with it across the front of his McClellan army saddle (Model 1903 tree), as he rode the Mountain trails. It was an interesting bit of American history to behold.

The red head band worn by the Apache Scouts came about because in the 1880s the Army was looking for distinctive color for head bands to more easily identify friendly scouts from hostile Indians. The Army Chief of Scouts chose White, but the only color available in the sutlers store at the time was red, so each Army scout was issued 1 yard of red flannel for his head band. The U.S. Army Apache scouts wore their red head bands as a badge of honor and were proud of their skill and ability to sneak up on the enemy Indians while wearing this bright color.

Other than perhaps the odd Apache running around, hostiles were not known to wear red head bands. Unlike the claims of certain “survival experts”, wild or bronco Apaches did not wear red head bands. That claim is simply not true.

A few years ago I was yarnin' with a retired Army Colonel from Fort Huachuca who actually knew the scouts when they were here in Arizona. I was told by the Colonel that the Scouts were sometimes hard to locate in the Mountains due to their disdain for radios, at times a rider had to be dispatched to track them down. The scouts were used for many different missions on base during the ww2 era and it was the last war time service seen by official Army Indian scouts.

The last Apache scouts were promoted and then retired from service in 1947; some of them had served the army for 40 years or more.

I enjoy reading the colorful names like "Sgt. Chicken", "Chow Big" , or "Short Bread" , these names and stories about the old scouts reminds me of the Native peoples I have encountered around the world. All Native peoples seem to possess a wonderful sense of humor and come up with colorful descriptive names for things and each other.

It does not take much imagination to figure out why "Chow Big" was called that, I'm sure he could pack away the chow. Probably not unlike the Nepalese Ghurkas or Aeta Negritos I have worked with. I have seen these little guys eat in a single meal an amazing amount of rice and canned meats then top it off with local fruits and veggies etc. , way more food then I would consume in an entire day.

Being from Arizona and having lived in "Apacharia" for the past several years, specifically in the Huachuca mountains where these scouts lived and worked, I can better appreciate them and their abilities more than most folks. I have walked the same trails and drank from the same streams and camped in the same side canyons as these old scouts .

There were many times when I was Camped alone in the Huachuca mountains on a cold clear winter night, sitting around my small Apache style star fire, I swear that I could hear them shouting to me "Hadínyaa Ndeen~ we are still here, Aheeya!",

I sincerely hope the ghosts of these old scouts are still up there in the Huachucas' and they continue to move about like the wind.

A little info on the scouts:

Working in the hills and through the rough country surrounding Fort Huachuca in Arizona are eight men--eight of the most unique soldiers in the wide flung armies of the United States of America. These men are Apaches, the last of the remnant of the Apache scouts attached to the army. They have served Uncle Sam valiantly in the past, and in the present crisis stand ready to do so again. Although their numbers are fewer, their courage and skill remains the same as it was in the days of the Indian Wars when they helped the United States Army battle enemy tribes.

Among the innumerable enactments framed to regulate and renovate our Army is a small passage almost lost in sweeping changes far more vital. This is the act which abolishes the Indian Scout Service on the death or retirement of the remaining members stationed at Fort Huachuca. Their history and the history of their fathers who served the Army before them is a moment of loyalty and courage.

In the Indian Wars the United States Army found itself blocked at every turn. There was no way for them to fight a pitched battle. Those wily, almost intangible red men raided in large parties and escaped by seeming to vanish into thin air. So repeatedly outstanding and successful were their feats that General Nelson Miles, eventually their conqueror, found it difficult to obtain Officers for his staff who did not believe that Apaches were almost impossible to defeat.

The Apaches in the southwest were divided in their opinion of the white man. Some were for him, some against him. It was among the former that the Army obtained recruits for the Scout Service. In almost every case these Scouts were highly intelligent and excellent physical specimens. Some of the accounts of their endurance and tracking skill are almost incredible.

Slowly and patiently the Scouts began teaching the white soldiers the tricks of the trail. They explained the nature of the country and where the most likely hiding places were. They taught them which were the best methods of attacking an Indian stronghold, how to take cover and where to find the all important water. As their influence and teaching spread, the success of the renegades dwindled and faded until finally they were under complete control.

After this was accomplished, there was still plenty for the Scouts to do. Occasional bands of Indians, maddened by whiskey, left the reservation to terrorize the countryside. Children were lost, or parties of pioneers were attacked. Gradually however, as the country became more settled their importance did decrease and most of them left the service.

Then came World War I, Once more the scouts came into prominence by reason of their singular ability to do a job no one else could do. As they were not citizens, the Indians were not drafted under the laws of 1917. But no sooner was the call to arms issued than well over 12,000 of them volunteered for service. Many of them, it is true, came to the recruiting offices dressed in war paint, wearing feathers and carrying flintlocks, but there was a gleam in their eyes and a spring in their step and Army Officers were eager to get them into their regiments.

Many of the Indians could not speak English, and they were used as message carriers in the war. The few who could speak English remained at vantage points behind the lines. The carrier Scouts memorized the message they were to deliver.

If they fell into enemy hands it was impossible for them to divulge their communication in a tongue the enemy could translate. There were many excellent codes and methods of communication, but the messages of highest importance were delivered by Indians because their vital content would spell disaster in enemy hands and could not be trusted to ordinary communication channels.

The Apache Scouts worked hand in hand with the Indians of other tribes who were enlisted in the services of the Signal Corps as telephone operators to further confuse the enemy.

After World War I however, there was little for the Scouts to do. In all of the occupations offered by the Army, there wasn't one that the Scouts were particularly suited for. At home the frontiers had been conquered. Their native Arizona was cut by broad highways and ribbons of railroad. The land they had once scouted for hostile Indians was now bristling with growing towns, industry, commerce and agriculture. Their number dwindled. The remaining lived out their days as fire and game wardens, cutting trails and cleaning brush at the picturesque old Army Post at Fort Huachuca, Arizona. Occasionally the staid routine was broken by visiting photographers or high ranking Officers and the Scouts would deck themselves out in their war paint and feathers and long haired wigs.

After the Officers were gone and the pictures had been taken they shed their colorful trappings, put on overalls and denims and once again picked up their picks and shovels. And then, thousands of miles away the little yellow men in screaming engines of destruction roared down from the skies to embroil the Unites States in another war.

Fort Huachuca snapped to attention. A new division was activated. Millions of dollars were allotted for its expansion, as it was found to be vital to the defense of America. And now--once again-- the Scouts have been assigned to a task which they can do better than anyone else.

First, in the Indian Wars their grandfathers did a job no one else could do. In the World War their fathers, heroically and with valor did a job few could do. And now at Fort Huachuca the Scouts are the guardians of the Post. Patrolling with eyes ever alert and piercing they watch the countryside, every ravine of which is familiar to they as the uniforms they wear. They are supplemented throughout the nation by their Indian brothers, not Scouts, but enlisted men who are being used as radio operators, their strange picturesque language once again confusing the enemy.

From an overturned pebble, from a bent blade of grass, from a dim track in the sand these men of our Army can draw the picture of what has gone before. Little escapes their searching eyes. War wise Army Officers, replete with data, topographical maps and aerial photos of the country turn often to the Scouts for accurate information.

An insignificant job in such a far flung war effort? Perhaps. But so was that of the first few scantily clad savages the Army put into service as Scouts. These "clumsy, untrustworthy heathens" won the war for us then. The information that Indians were to be used in World War I as message carriers because they couldn't speak English brought a knowing twinkle to the eyes of those who thought perhaps the Army had its tongue in its cheek. A little while later, as the news filtered in, it was that these "war whoops" were doing a workmanlike job of saving the Army men, money and material--and doing a bang-up job of distinguishing themselves for bravery under fire at the same time.

Today, in the mechanized age of war, the news that Indians who can track a month old trail over burning desert and rocky mountains are serving in our forces may only bring a smile or a shrug, but as before, when the time and place is found, these "relics of a vanished age" will do their job quietly and better than anyone else can do it. ".... and Only Eight Remain.

"Geronimo!" is today the battle cry of the US parachute troops as the swing beneath their white silk chutes on their way to behind-the-lines fighting. But once the name of the Apache Chief stood for bloody massacres, fierce Apache raids the last great Indian War. Once Army cavalrymen patrolled Arizona valleys so that settlers could work their farms.

Once friendly Apache Scouts helped protect a string of forts through the Arizona Territory, helped the Army in its 1886 roundup of hostile tribes.

Of the famous Indian Scouts, only eight remain. Today at the same Fort Huachuca that once was an important protection for Arizona, they carry no messages through the wilderness, for the telephone and radio are faster. They do no scouting, for observation planes cover miles to their yards. But they repair fences, act as game wardens, keep up the trails, recover strayed livestock, act as fire wardens.

The eight who remain are Sergeant Sinew L. Reilly, William Major, Aliejo Quintero, Corporal Antonio, Jess Billy, Kessay Y-32, Andrews Payson and Jim Lane. Many are third generation army scouts. All are part of the 25th Infantry regiment, but live with their families in a row of adobe houses they built for themselves at Fort Huachuca (pronounced Wha-choo-ka).

Although the Walky-Talky radio is one of the modern inventions that have helped make the Apache scouts technologically "unemployed," they hold no animosity to such mechanisms, and are greatly interested in the portable transmitting-receiving sets that a single soldier can carry on his back.

And although the Apaches, in the days of Chiefs Cochise, Victorio, Juh and Geronimo were known for "unsurpassed cunning and pitiless ferocity," today all of the once wild tribe are famed for agricultural ability, thrift, and ingenious basket making. No longer can a young Indian enlist as a scout, as did the eight at Huachuca, but there is still a place for the original Americans in the army. Their faces can be seen at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, where Geronimo died, at Fort Benning, Georgia, where Comanches in the Signal Corps talk a radio language no fifth columnist is ever likely to learn.

**fifth columnist - A clandestine subversive organization working within a country to further an invading enemy's military and political aims.

Mosquitoes - By Snake Blocker

 

Excellent information from my fellow scout and warrior Snake Blocker.

See you on the trail!

Tomahawk

By Snake Blocker;

 Mosquitoes, they are not going away. You either live in an area where mosquitoes live like kings and queens in humid environments, or you have visited a place such as this. These mosquitoes, like vampires, suck! An old Apache legends states they were not indigenous to the Turtle Island (the Americas) until the last Great Bear died and reincarnated into millions of mosquitoes that when combined, formed the shape of the Sacred Great Bear. 

 The Great Bear was killed by a disrespectful Apache youth, so in revenge, the next season the bear formed massive swarms of mosquitoes to suck the life blood out of the entire tribe, bite by bite. So what do we do without playing around with chemicals? The answer my friend is blowing in the wind (or in this article). Mosquitoes usually like non-locals over locals, just like I like an occasional Asian or Mexican dish. They also tend to prefer excessive-fat people over lean-fit people.

 Recommendations for repelling mosquitoes: #1 Cover up any and all exposed skin; #2 Rub cinnamon oil on your skin and drink cinnamon tea and/or eat ground cinnamon; #3 Rub lemon grass oil on your skin and/or spray it on your clothes; #4 Drink vanilla mixed with olive oil; #5 Eat Garlic and/or rub garlic on your clothes. Recommendations for mosquitoes bites to prevent and minimize itching: #1 Rub tea tree oil on all exposed areas where itching is occurring; #2 Bathe in water mixed with lavender oil (warm water) and/or rub on affected areas; #3 Place spit and urine (hopefully your own) on affected areas to give some temporary comfort, if nothing else is available; #4 Rub peppermint oil on affected areas; #5 Place paste of baking soda mixed with a little purified water on affected area to draw out the irritants.

 Remember thousands of people die each year from mosquitoes as they can transmit disease and cause many illnesses, which can be fatal to unfit people and fit people alike. When things go from bad to worst with climate changes and worse case scenarios, mosquitoes will increase in number and deadliness. Be prepared my friend, be prepared!

Deadliest Warrior Season 01 Episode 01 Apache vs Gladiator

Watch the Deadliest warrior episode with my 2 fellow warriors and scouts Snake Blocker and Alan Tafoya. I wish the producers could have given the Apache warrior a more worthy apponent.



Aheeeya! See you on the trail - Tomahawk

One Apache Nation under Usen By Snake Blocker, Lipan Apache Tribe of Texas

Here is some interesting information about the various Apache bands from my good friend and fellow Scout Snake Blocker;

One Apache Nation under Usen (God)
How Many Apache Tribal Names Do You Know?
(Bands, Clans, Regional Groups, Sub-Bands, Sectional Bands)

By Snake Blocker, Lipan Apache Tribe of Texas

Most people in the United States have heard about us Apaches.  Even when I go to Europe, Asia, Africa and the Middle East, people heard the name through books, television and the internet.  What most people don’t realize is that early on, we were occupying many states and areas in Northern Mexico and Southern Canada.  In the past, the majority lived in Northern Mexico, Texas, Arizona and New Mexico.  Today, we are in every state, as well as areas of Mexico and Canada.  Apaches have adapted and the majority live independent of the Reservations. We are doctors, lawyers, teachers, mechanics, oil field workers, artists, actors/actresses, models, business owners and much more.  We have served in every conflict and war since the Vikings, Spaniards and Europeans came over.  We are serving in every branch of the US Military and we have more Veterans per capita than the non-native community.  The word “Apache” means “the Enemy.”  Today, we are your neighbors and friends.  We continue to pass down our history and traditions to our community and we keep the “Warrior Spirit” alive inside our soul. This is a part of us we cannot let go—we are forever Apaches!         

1. Acho [Mountain] Apaches (Band)

2. Apacheis de Nabaju/Navajo Apa ches (Dine Tribal Group)

3.  Arivipa Apaches (Band)

4.  Blue Mountain[People] Apaches (Western Affiliate Band)

5.  Bedonkohe Apaches (Band)

6.  Buií gł ŭn Ndé (Many Necklaces People) Apaches (Sectional Band)

7. Calchufine Apaches (Band)

8.  Canneci Lipan Apaches (Louisiana Band)

9. Carlana Apaches (Sierra Blanca Apaches) (Band)

10. Carrizo Apaches (Sectional Band)

11. Casadore Apaches (Band)

12. Chipaynes (Sub-Band of the Faraon Apaches) (Sub-Band)

13. Choctan-Apaches of Ebarb (Sectional Band)

14. Chokonen Apaches (Band)

15.  Chiricahua (Chir-uh-KAH-wuh) Apaches (Regional Group)

16.  Cibecue Apaches (Sub-Band)

17. Colorado Apaches (Red Apaches) (Regional Group)

18.  Coyotero Apaches (Band)

19. Cuartelejo Apaches (Kansas Apaches) (Sectional Band)

20. Cúelcahén Ndé Lipan (Lipon) (People of the Tall Grass) Apaches (Sectional Band)

21. Faraon Apaches (Canadian River Sectional Band)

22.  Fire/Camp Circle Apaches (Sectional Band)

23.  Gila Apaches (Sectional Band of the Western Apache Province)

24.  Head of Wolves/Body of Men Apaches (Sectional Band)

25.  High-beaked Moccasin Apaches (Sectional Band)

26.  Hoyero Apaches (Band)

27. Hoyero Jicarilla Apaches (Sub-Band)

28. Jémez Apaches (Band)

29.  Jicarilla-Tinde Apaches (Jicarilla Apaches) (Apaches de la Xircarilla) (Regional Group)

30. Keretsa (Querecha) Western Navajo/Apaches (Band)

31.  Kiowa-Gataka Apaches (Regional Group)

32.  Lipan (Lipon) (Li-PAN/Lee-Pan) Apaches (Regional Group)

33. Lipanan Eastern Apaches (Regional Group)

34. Lipiyanes Cuartelejo Jicarilla Apaches (Band)

35.  Little Breech-Clout Apaches (Sectional Band)

36. Llanero Apaches (Sub-Band)

37. Llanero Jicarilla Apaches (Carlanas Apaches) (Sub-Band)

38. Mescalero-Faraon Apaches (Regional Group)

39. Mimbreno Chiricahua Apaches (Sub-Band)

40. Mojave Apaches (Band)

41. Moqui Apaches (Band)

42. Natages (Nah-The-Hays) Apaches (Mescalero Affiliate Band from Pescos River)

43. Nednhi Apaches (Band)

44. Ojo Caliente Apaches (Band)

45. Paloma Apaches (Band)

46. Perillo Apaches (Band)

47. Picurius Apaches (Sub-Band)

48. Plains Apaches (Regional Group)

49. Pulverizing (Grinding on a Metate) Apaches (Sectional Band)

50. Quinia Apaches (Sub-Band)

51. Salinero Apaches (Band)

52. San Carlos Apaches (Band)

53. Sun Otter Apaches (Sectional Band)

54. Tagukerésh Apaches (Eastern & Western Apaches) (Regional Group)

55. Tas steé be głui Ndé (Rock Tied to Head People) Apaches (Sectional Band)

56. Tagu (Teya) Eastern Apaches (New Mexico Pueblo Band)

57. Tcihende Mimbres Apaches (Band)

58. Tonto Apaches (Band)

59. Trementina Apaches (Band)

60. Tú sìs Ndé (Big Water People) Apaches (Sectional Band)

61. Tú é diné Ndé (Tough People of the Desert) Apaches (Sectional Band)

62. Tu’Tssn Nde Lipan Apache (Sectional Band)

63. Northern Tonto Apaches (Sub-Band)

64. Southern Tonto Apaches (Sub-Band)

65. Vaquero Apaches [of New and Old Mexico] (Regional Group)

66. Warm Springs Apaches (Sub-Band)

67. Western-Pinal Coyotero Apaches (Regional Group)

68. White Mountain-Coyoteros Apaches (Band)

69. White Mountain Eastern Apaches (Sub-Band)

70. Wild Goose Apaches (Sectional Band)

71. Xilas Apaches (Band)

72. Yavapai Apaches (Regional Group)

73. Yuma Apaches (Band)

74. Zuá Zuá Ndé (People of the Lava Beds) Apaches (Sectional Band)

The gear of the "Mad Trapper"

 A few months ago I was lucky to receive a link via email from a friend for the Discovery channel Canada show about the autopsy of “The Mad Trapper”. It was an excellent show but a little inaccurate as to the equipment Johnson carried on his run from the law. The documentary showed TMT with a small partially loaded ruck sack instead of a Trapper Nelson frame pack and he was carrying a rifle saddle scabbard tied to his pack. A saddle scabbard for your rifle would be a very impractical item due to its weight, bulk, and once frozen in the extreme temperatures of the arctic it would be like sheet iron thus making getting your rifle into play nearly impossible.

Also, the documentary showed the character playing Johnson wearing cotton military style clothing – another inaccuracy. Its just me, I have not watched TV in years but when I do I expect things to be portrayed accurately. I find that TV types are extremely vexing and annoying in the liberties they take. Portraying anything with inaccuracies only detracts from the true story and tends to cloud any issues involved in the story. I digress.....

Recently, I was staying with a friend in New Hampshire and happened to find the book “The Mad Trapper of rat River” -  by Dick North. Appendix “A” - Exhibit “C” lists all of the equipment Albert Johnson AKA “The Mad Trapper” had in his possession at the time he was killed by the RCMP.

Pretty cool to me and I'm sure to many others. I had personally never seen this list before and found it interesting to note that Johnson (according to the RCMP list) didn't have extra clothing of any kind, no socks, wool cap, extra mittens, undies and he didn't have a blanket or sleeping bag or food, just some salt and red pepper. During the manhunt He was never known to build a fire to warm himself or cook a meal. I'm just guessing but Perhaps he made small twig fires cook small game like the whiskey jack and squirrel or to brew some spruce or pine needle tea in his lard bucket cooking pot. If he didn't stop to cook or make a brew, I can only imagine that he was chewing snow for water and eating the small game he shot raw.

Looking over this list of equipment I think it shows definite wilderness savvy and potential skill. The Gear Johnson was packing was practical ad functional and suited to the environment. His choice of rifles was excellent, one each for large and small game. Johnson even had an oily rag to swab down his guns. The axe, knives (2), sewing kit, matches, Compass, fishing gear, and babiche to repair his snow shoes all show that Johnson was no tenderfoot and knew what to carry for an extended stay in the wilderness. Smart, functional and practical but about average for your typical “sour dough” I think.

Many of the items Johnson carried on his run from the RCMP closely resemble what I have in my pack now....Like red pepper, salt, sewing kit, fishing gear, .22 rifle & ammo, Matches, cooking pot, small mirror, buckskin rifle case, match safe, cash, razor. I do have a blanket, tent or hammock, minimal food and clothing.

I would like to find one of those old trapper nelson packs though, They look pretty cool but are getting hard to find. I might have to locate a craftsman who could make me a copy of one. I like the simple design of the wooden frame and the canvas pack sack. I did some research into the Trapper Nelson packs and found that they first hit the scene in 1927 and were popular up through WW2 and were used by the Alaskan Army scouts during the war.

In fact, I watched the movie “Death Hunt” with Lee Marvin and Chuck Bronson, which is based in the “Mad Trapper” story and noticed that “Johnson” was wearing a Trapper Nelson pack in the film. You could also see his extra rifle and axe handle sticking up out of the pack.

Below I have copied the list exactly as it is written in the Dick North Book about “The Mad Trapper”. I'm too old and broken down now to do it myself but Id like to see someone replicate Johnson's run from the law using this same gear. Personally?? I doubt anyone could do it.

 I especially doubt that any of the new generation of TV survival "Experts" could match this mans epic run from the law.

Tomahawk – Scouts Out!

Albert Johnson “The mad trapper”
(Gear)

When Johnson was killed he had the following possessions in is pockets and pack;
$2,410 in Canadian and American money.

A small glass jar containing 5 pearls valued at $15.00

5 pieces of gold dental work valued at $3.20

another small jar containing 13 penny weight of alluvial gold valued at $9.36

a model 99 Savage “Featherweight” rifle in 30.30

an Iver Johnson sawed off shotgun in 16 guage

a Winchester .22 rifle model  58

39 30-30 shells

4 16 guage shotgun shells

64 .22 bullets

a compass

a package of 32 pills

an axe; a trapper nelson pack ; lard can with lid in old sack; a dead squirrel; a dead whiskey jack

knife made from a trap spring

match safe

Gillette safety razor

envelope containing a piece of a 3 cornered file, an awl and a chisel made from a nail.
a small knife with a moose skin cover.
moose skin rifle cover, moose skin pouch, moose skin sewing bag containing needles and thread.
small spring, nails wrapped in tin foil, Matches wrapped in tin foil, 30-30 cartridge box containing a small empty bottle and a small piece of wax.
7 pieces of moose hide, a sack containing 6 empty sacks, 15 pieces of babiche, 1 large bundle of babiche snow shoe lacing,1 bundle of sewing thread, 1 moose skin lace.
Calico rifle cover
Large envelope containing;
1 box pony matches
1 bundle sulfur matches wrapped in tin foil
1 bundle sulfur matches wrapped in paper
1 tinfoil packet containing 2 pills
1 paper package of 6 pills
1 paper package of fish hooks
1 tinfoil package containing oily rag
1 leather cover containing comb and sewing materials
4 loose .22 shells
a moose hide container holding a small mirror
1 packet of red pepper
1 packet of salt
1 bundle of rag twine

Jeff Olson Art work

My good friend and fellow pimp Jeff Olson is an artist of the first order. He can bang out some very beautiful and useful items from scrap steel. If my time is up tomorrow, I can say I rode the war trail with Jeff and seen it done right.

You can check out the Olson forge webpage at the link below.

http://www.olsonironworks.com/

See you on the trail!

Tomahawk

Jeff Olsons' book "The S.H.T.F. Art of War"

My good friend and fellow doctor of pimpagogery Jeff  Olson has an excellent book out there. I really dig how he has written this book. I have know Jeff for 12 years and Have worked with him in hostile environments and on the Production of the TV show I did for Discovery Channel.  Jeff is a stand up guy and a great author. You can purchase his book at this link - https://shtfartofwar.wordpress.com/



It doesn’t matter if it’s an EMP, solar flare, earthquake, global financial crash or pandemic that causes a societal collapse.  When the grid goes down and the lights go out, many won’t be prepared to defend against those who are organized and intent on doing them harm.

Even with advanced warning of an impending winter storm or hurricane, the News routinely shows people running, last minute to the store for basic supplies.  Humans for the most part, are unprepared, reactionary creatures and store shelves don’t hold enough supplies for everyone.

When people suddenly need life saving knowledge on survival, and warfare, they’re going to be desperately scrambling for that information.  They aren’t going to have the time to sit down and read a novel about another apocalyptic survivor trying to make his way home after (insert trendy S.H.T.F. event here).

This book covers those controversial real world subjects you never think about unless you live in a war zone or an underdeveloped country.  It pushes your mind into an uncomfortable way of thinking.

It’s stripped down to quickly deliver the reader information on topics such as how the criminal element will conduct their reign of terror.  It covers how to pick a winning survival team, how to prepare for a stay at a FEMA camp, what to expect in a 100 mile traffic jam and what it takes to be a post apocalyptic scavenger.  It also provides a list of post collapse professions that ensure you’re essential to a grid down community.  Plus a whole lot more.

Tim Smith Spoof blog post

My good friend and fellow wilderness bum Tim Smith is putting out some funny spoof blog posts of late. Here is his latest.http://www.jackmtn.com/simplog/why-you-need-a-new-knife/

See you on the trail!

Tomahawk AKA "Whisky jack"