THE PSYCHE OF A TRAINED MILITARY ASSASSIN
Lieutenant Colonel Daniel Marvin
U.S. Army Special Forces (Retired)
People should know who and where I was when, like a human robot, I eagerly and without question participated directly as an "operative" in government sponsored illegal activities perpetrated by certain powers against any individual, government or activity who would attempt to disrupt the absolute rule of our "hierarchy."
Documented and corroborated testimony of what I had done during 21 years of military service that was of an evil or illegal nature now serve as the foundation of my crusades against evil in our government. I care because the truth matters. Those of us who want to must act courageously and with integrity to communicate what we have experienced, to include direct first-hand knowledge of what happened in Dallas on 22 November 1963 and in succeeding days, months and years, as those same forces within our government who conspired to kill our president continue to do what is "necessary" to silence those who would bring forth evidence to prove the who, what, when and where of the conspiracy and to judiciously disrupt actions taken to cover them up.
The conspiracy must be brought to light, the perpetrators punished, and justice meted out. I believe if another decade passes without full disclosure of the facts it will render the potential for justice in this matter practically impossible. As time drags on it will be outright fear that silences witnesses who are aging and who may desire to voluntarily withdraw from the fray so as to shield loved ones from danger. Caution may very well prevail against the integrity and courage of witnesses now willing to come forward such as myself, Dennis David and Jerry Willsey. We may one day in the not too distant future reach an age when we desire to steer clear of any involvement in such an awesome controversy, knowing what forces can be brought to bear to silence us.
That fact alone continues to light the fire of promise and the need for action in my being. I want the reader to know what resides within the heart, soul, and psyche of a man who is a trained military assassin and terrorist and who now searches for a way to inform the world of the truth of certain heinous deeds and evil actions perpetrated by powerful men (even within the military hierarchy) whose drive for power and hunger for influence and monetary gain direct their ways. It will cause them to turn on honorable people and to foster, even develop and direct, illegal, even murderous actions, which deny the citizens of this once great nation their constitutional rights and safeguards.
Those who know me as a born-again Christian can readily appreciate and understand why, within hours of John F. Kennedy's assassination, I volunteered for U.S. Army Special Forces training and was drawn into circumstances and forces that molded my warrior-like psyche and compelled me to strive to be one of those who JFK admired: the men who wore the Green Beret!
Within five months of his death I graduated from the Special Forces Officer's Course at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. By mid-April 64 I had absorbed the basic fundamentals of unconventional warfare, civic action, special demolitions, martial-law, assassination techniques, and terror tactics. I had earned the right to wear the coveted Army Green Beret. Unknown to my wife, family, or friends outside Special Forces, I would soon be involved in clandestine missions which often included doing what most rational human beings believe to be unacceptable, even despicable. My penchant for danger was not the product of the school at Fort Bragg. It began much earlier in life. I was born, raised, and thrived in an arena of adversity, doing my best when under extreme physical and psychological stress. I sought danger, bored with the norm. I was born at home in Detroit, Michigan on October 10th 1933, with only a welfare nurse attending. My older brother Bill and I were raised by our gritty, hard-working, loyal Mother at a time when jobs were few and far between, particularly for a woman. My good-for-nothing father had left my mother for the company of a 16 year old girl the day was born. So much for him! Day old bread, soup lines, and door-to-door begging for vegetables and canned goods were an accepted and necessary means of survival for us. We had love and hope, that was sufficient to keep us going. I was five when Mother decided Chicago would be a better place for us to live.
The back-alleys and roof-tops of south-side Chicago helped to develop my spirit of adventure. At the age of eleven I would not hesitate to lead others who shared the same enthusiasm to engage in activities involving great danger, going where proverbial angels "feared to tread." But then, isn't the world full of different types of people? I like the poem by Jean Larte' Guy, titled "TWO ARMYS" that I was given a Xerox copy of during guerrilla warfare training:
"I'd like to have two Armies:
"One for display with lovely guns, tanks, little soldiers, staffs, distinguished and doddering Generals and dear little regimental officers who would be deeply concerned over their General's bowel movements or their Colonel's piles; an Army that would be shown for a modest fee on every fairground in the country."
"The other would be the real one - composed entirely of young enthusiasts in camouflage uniforms, who would not be put on display, but from whom impossible efforts would be demanded and to whom all sorts of tricks would be taught. That is the Army in which I would like to fight."
The U.S. Army Special Forces - the elite "Green Berets" - were that "real one" and each and every one of us knew our place in the scheme of things. If the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) - the "Company" as we commonly referred to it - needed people for some dirty or dangerous covert mission - it would likely look to us for volunteers. The uninformed or uninitiated think of the typical CIA operative as being one who risks his life daily in the clandestine pursuit of intelligence from those evil forces in the world who would want to do us harm. Not so - In actuality the combined risk to the entire agency only resulted in a total of fifty agency personnel being killed in the line of duty in the first half-century they'd been in business. Hardly characteristic of extreme danger, but it's true. Why is the honor roll so small? I suggest to you that it is because the people on the ground who do the really dangerous stuff - the killing, the terrorizing, and sabotage - are people from outside the agency. Special Forces personnel like me, even common criminals loaned to the Company by underworld bosses, would be used and then maintained on the "rolls" or discarded in one fashion or another when the powers that be consider them "expendable." Former Green Beret Major John Strait put it clear and simple: "They [the CIA] use you like a condom. Once you've served their purpose, they shit-can you." Unconventionally oriented men who naturally gravitate to dangerous work environments and who bare up well under stress, whether from the military or Mafia resource pool, were sought by the agency to do those "dastardly deeds."
These men would be the assassins, the persuaders, the terrorists for the intelligence "community." A Green Beret, trained to function in these roles, may be philosophically more akin to a Mafia enforcer or a brother clandestine operative than would be the educated CIA "handlers," conventional military personnel, or civilians.
Each of the former is in a sense a cold-blooded killer. Does it matter who gives the order or whether the "hit" is for territorial control by the Mob or a call to duty to preserve "national security," if that killing is indeed illegal? Assassinations and other deadly clandestine activities are not legal. They should never be used to "defend the national interests" or for any other so-called "political necessity." Each and every man in my Special Forces operational "A" Team in Vietnam was a kindred spirit. Each was strong, brave, resourceful, and a loyal team player who would let nothing interfere with the conduct of the mission.
Each of my men lacked a formal education beyond high school, but to man they were street-wise and endowed with the ingenuity and common sense essential to perform
in an unconventional military environment. Those who engage in clandestine activities are usually tight-lipped and not likely to discuss such matters with people of dissimilar modus operandi. Such talk is taboo around the home. Even when conversing with those who walk the same walk, actual facts relating to a successful "mission" are not so much as hinted at. There is, after all, no statute of limitations on murder or mayhem.
I was nine years old when I first experienced the sight and circumstance of a dead man. He was a middle-age black man. His still-warm body hung from a rope noose tied to a rafter in a garage that opened onto an unpaved alley separating blacks from whites in Chicago's south side. Grotesque, yes, yet it didn't bother me. Two years later I formed a small gang of five street-wise, tough boys my age. In the beginning we formed to protect old ladies from thieving high-school-age gangs that roamed Chicago's mean streets during the Great Depression. I led ambushes using Indian tactics gleaned from watching Western movies through a roof-vent atop the Ken Theater on 47th Street. We regularly fought and always won. It got to be "the thing to do" regardless of what our adversaries had or hadn't done to helpless old women. Al Capone, Chicago's own self-proclaimed Robin Hood, was then our hero. A typical day would find us skipping school, begging groceries, stealing candy, or jumping roof-top to roof-top from one apartment building to another.
The day Mother saw me scoot out our front door carrying a cross-bow I'd fashioned from bits & pieces of others' trash, she decided it was time we move to the country. I maintained my independent and tough nature, ran away from home, hopped freight trains, played around with dynamite, fought with my bare fists and aggressively assumed command of any situation I came to be involved in. I enlisted in the U.S. Army once I was old enough to do so without my mother's permission.
The war was on in Korea and I wanted to fight. That is just what I did. A decade later I'd volunteered for and earned my green beret and I was eager to do any job, no matter how heinous, how illegal, or how brutal, so long as it was said to be critical to our nation's interests. I required no proof, just their telling me it was for the flag. Was it macho? Yes. Intelligent? No. Patriotic? Yes. I have gained wisdom and now question my former motivations since being "born-again" on the 29th of January, 1984.
I have fought hard to make the truth of our illegal or immoral acts public. When I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Savior, I became a new person. It took time, but my old ways did pass away and the new spiritual man in me wanted to confess what I'd done and clean up the wounds of subterfuge and corruption. The more I get to know the Lord, the more courage I draw from Him. I pray daily for the truth to be known and for justice to prevail. I do recognize that it is dangerous to blow the whistle on clandestine operations of our government. I know how they use people to neutralize or terminate those who choose to spill the beans, regardless of the right or wrong of it all. I know because I was once a part of it. The most personally agonizing part of my struggle is the affect it has had and continues to have on my family. I continue to pray that our Lord gives me the will, the courage, and the wisdom to continue to tell what I know of the evil works of our government and that the efforts of myself and others to bring to light the nefarious deeds of our government impact the conscience of the American people to the extent that they demand justice be done. I am ashamed of what we have allowed our once great nation to become. It is time for action. Itis not time for cowards. We must bring the truth to light as it relates to the JFK assassination conspiracy and its continuing cover-up by our government, which I believe was directly responsible for the death of U.S. Navy Lt. Cmdr. William Bruce Pitzer and the silencing of many others by whatever means necessary who would have helped to bring the truth to light. I was asked to kill Pitzer. I thank God I refused. Someone did kill him. - He was an innocent man who possessed what the intelligence community did not want made public - the actual photos of the JFK autopsy which prove the conspiracy. Commander Pitzer was silenced. The people of this nation deserve to know the truth. We must end the silence with a cry for justice. Let us move forward with determination, stay in the battle and fight for the truth to be known and the evil ones punished.
Please write your Congressional Representative and your Senators and demand that they hold a hearing about illegal government activities and invite me, Dennis David and Gerald Willsey to testify. We must protect our future generations!
(c) 2006 LTC D