Thomas Wictor

This Memorial Day, I’m honoring one of my heroes, James “Jabby” Jabara, United States Air Force, the world’s first jet-to-jet ace.

Since I write so much about the Middle East, I should point out that Jabara was an Arab, of Lebanese descent. He was born in Muskogee, Oklahoma, on October 10, 1923, and he died in a car accident on November 17, 1966, while on leave from Vietnam.

Jabara fought in World War II, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War. He’s considered one of the bravest pilots who ever lived.

Honoring Jabara’s America

I was born too late. Even though I’m excited at seeing the Middle East improve, my own country is a disaster. The main problems are collectivism and the inflexible. Collectivists and the inflexible have made life intolerable for me. Now I have to give away my two cats, because nobody will stop my neighbors from shooting off skyrockets. My cats are forever traumatized, so the kindest thing to do is to find them a new home.

All of my neighbors speak Spanish. In Mexico, it’s a tradition to shoot off skyrockets. While it’s illegal to do so in my city, everyone who enforces the law is of Mexican descent. Tribalism is more important than my quality of life. People don’t know that I’m armed and capable of homicidal rage. Each skyrocket explosion triggers my PTSD, the result of the Provisional Irish Republic Army trying to murder me with a nail bomb on July 20, 1982, in Regent’s Park, London.

Nobody here cares. Mexicans are a protected class who must be allowed to do whatever they want, regardless. My mother was Mexican.

That makes me a member of a protected class. I’m allowed to write whatever I want. If you’re offended, you’re a racist.

Wealthy, coddled dis-Mexican Americans now fight tooth and nail against improvement.

Bill Kristol has a vested interest in the status quo never changing. If things improve, then Kristol won’t be able to afford expensive fatty foods and fine wines. His flushed face and double chin won’t be shown on TV anymore.

It’s because of Bill Kristol that I’m not able to even have pet cats. Both Democrats and Republicans want illegal aliens to continue pouring across our borders. The Democrats see them as voters, and the Republicans see them as a serf class. Whether voters or serfs, they shoot off skyrockets, keep dogs that bark all day and night, and throw deafening parties every other day.

They also mow their lawns at night.

In James Jabara’s America, immigrants assimilated and became good citizens. Today, Mexican immigrants are not required to be legal, they bring their squalor and lawlessness with them, and those of us who pay taxes and live by the rules are told to go screw ourselves. We’re also told to die.

The parents of a woman who was fatally shot on a San Francisco pier this summer by an illegal immigrant filed legal claims Tuesday against city and federal officials saying that their negligence contributed to her death.

The family of Kathryn Steinle claims that action taken by San Francisco Sheriff Ross Mirkarimi, who ordered jail staff in March to no longer share details about undocumented immigrants with U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement officials, amounted to “deliberate indifference” toward state and federal laws that would have otherwise protected the 32-year-old.

Juan Francisco Lopez-Sanchez, the Mexican national charged with killing Steinle, was released from the San Francisco sheriff’s custody in April despite a request by ICE to take custody of him for deportation proceedings. He had been placed in the department’s custody as a result of a 20-year-old warrant for failure to appear on two drug charges.

San Francisco is a self-proclaimed “sanctuary city” for illegals. The Sheriff’s Department deliberately released the murderer as a gesture of defiance to people like me, who want to live in a nation of laws. As a result, the good-for-nothing, shiftless, alcoholic, drug-addled career criminal Juan Francisco Lopez-Sanchez was allowed to shoot a passerby to death.

In San Francisco, there’s no sanctuary for Americans.

I was born too late.

Honoring courage and skill

James “Jabby” Jabara first served his country in World War II. He flew the North American P-51 Mustang.

“Ceegar” is slang for “cigar.” You pronounce it “SEE-gar.” Though only nineteen, Jabara was a cigar smoker.

During one dogfight, Jabara’s canopy was blown off. He crouched below the windshield and continued fighting in the howling wind and sub-freezing temperatures, until he shot down a German aircraft. Then he flew back to his base.

On another occasion, he collided in midair with a German aircraft over France. Both pilots bailed out and parachuted safely to the ground. Jabara approached the surprised German and shook his hand. For Jabara, the fight was not personal.

Jabara flew 108 combat missions in Europe during two tours of duty. He credited his Lebanese father for teaching him the discipline he needed to survive mentally and spiritually. War was simply a business at which Jabara excelled. He was what we call an “Alpha male,” the most successful and powerful male of a group.

Honoring good citizenship

After World War II, Jabara decided to stay in the military. By the time the US entered the Korean War in June of 1950, Jabara was flying the North American F-86 Sabre, a jet fighter.

During this era, fighter aircraft still relied on guns.

Honoring marksmanship

The F-86 Sabre was armed with six .50-caliber machine guns. They created a devastating hail of bullets.

During the Korean War, James Jabara became the world’s first jet-to-jet ace, meaning the first to shoot down five opponents. The Germans had jet fighters in World War II, but the Allies flew piston-engine aircraft. Jabara fought and defeated the Russian Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-15, an aircraft that was in many ways superior to the F-86.

Because of the speeds involved, Jabara had to master “deflection shooting.” In other words, he had to fire in front of the enemy and time it so that the MiG-15 flew into his bullets.

By the end of the war, Jabara was a triple ace. His fifteen victories placed him behind only Joseph C. McConnell, who shot down sixteen enemy.

Honoring a sense of duty

On return to the US, Jabara flew the Lockheed F-104 Starfighter and the Convair B-58 Hustler.

Both were wildly dangerous rockets with pilots’ seats strapped to them.

In September of 1958, Jabara was assigned combat air patrol missions against the Communist Chinese during the Second Taiwan Straits Crisis. Although Red China had initiated hostilities by commencing a heavy artillery bombardment of Quemoy Island on August 23, 1958, you’ll never guess what happened.

Actually, you probably did guess what happened: The communist Chinese attacked, and in response, Americans and the world criticized the US.

That’s another reason that I admire the Saudis. They aren’t constrained by the insanity and bad faith of others.

In a million years, you would never imagine the “solution” worked out by the communist Chinese (PRC) and the Nationalist Chinese (ROC). It’s beyond belief.

Eventually, the PRC and ROC came to an arrangement in which they shelled each other’s garrisons on alternate days. This continued for twenty years until the PRC and the United States normalized relations.

Here’s a little secret that all those finger-wagging, jowl-shaking Americans and non-Americans didn’t know.

Wouldn’t the look on the world’s face be worth the decades of whining that would follow?

Honoring the last mission

In 1966 James Jabara became the youngest colonel in the history of the US Armed forces at that time. He volunteered to fly combat missions in Vietnam, where he bombed the enemy with the North American F-100 Super Sabre.

On November 17, 1966, Jabara and his 16-year-old daughter Carol Anne were killed in a car accident at Mytle Beach, Florida. Carol Anne was driving the Volkswagen Beetle, her father in the back seat. She lost control of the vehicle and rolled it.

Thank you for your service and the inspiration you provide me, Colonel Jabara. Because of men like you, millions of Middle Easterners will soon get to experience the world that Americans once had. I was born too late, but others were born at just the right time and place.

I envy them.