UPDATED: You’ll never believe who is still calling himself SF, despite all proof that shows he isn’t…
Well, actually maybe you can guess.
Bear in mind that he’s now been tossed from the Special Forces Association for being a weapons grade asshole and a liar, but this myth of his, by hook or by crook he’ll keep repeating it until you believe it. It’s downright Orwellian, wouldn’t you say?
Once a day I check in on him at his multitude of haciendas, just dying to hear what is going on in his dreadfully important life. Has he painted the house? Posting pictures of the kids he ignored for year? These are the questions that plague me.
So I was happy to note that he now has a 5th website I can track his insanity on, the http://stolenvalorhuntershomophobes.weebly.com/index.html.
For the record, I am not a homophobe, just ask any of the guys at St Jacquestober fest last weekend when I was handing out hugs like Wittgenfeld hands out candy in his windowless van down by the creek.
For those who are not retarded, kindly compare MOS 18E with MOS 05B.
Holy Sheep Shit, get a load of this “No shit there I was story….”
You know what this calls for? A Claymore-esque style phony war story competition.
There I was on the path, wearing facepaint and a banana hammock with only my AK47 standing between me and certain death……
OK, now you finish it.
Category: Politics
LOL at “Morris code.”
HEY. I don’t see *MY* name on that list of his at the bottom of the page. I AM OFFENDED. How do *I* get included?? I thought it was from posting in threads about Señor D-Bag here on TAH.
“Here I am in my own barracks room (for class leaders only).”
STOP IT … I AM TRYING TO WORK HERE! THIS IS TOO FUNNY!
Yeah, what is Morris code? Must be top secret.
Bah. Apparently I’m too old.
Clearly he is referring to the old Meow Mix commercials with Morris the Cat. You know. “Meow meow meow meow Meow meow meow meow”.
The guy can converse with cats.
“Morris Code” is named after a guy named Zack Morris, who was known back in the day to stand near the bayside toting a very large communication device.
@#1 thru 6 – Hysterical stuff!!!! What’s with this guy? Is he serious with this?
@6, was he saved by a bell?
Shit … you beat to the Meow, meow, meow, meow, Meow, Meow joke!
By the way … I petted Morris the cat once!
Yikes.
Narcissistic does not even begin to come close to describing this asshole.
@5: Wittgenfeld is the little-known inspiration for George Clooney’s character in the movie “The Men Who Stare At Cats.”
There I was on the path, wearing facepaint and a banana hammock with only my AK47 standing between me and certain death…… I’d slipped in early and dropped out of the sky at 0900, from 81,000 feet. I was armed only with an e-tool and my shelter-half tent pole. the nightmares still haunt me.
Dilly Dallas still butt hurt over getting kicked out of the SFA ( Which he lied to become a member of to begin with ). The flamboyant old fool doesn’t realize how much he confirms the embellishments he was busted for to begin with. BTW, pretty military blanket & uniform for an A.I.T. Class leader. And when was the MOS 05B considered a Special Forces billet. The thunder chicken squawks once more.
WRT to the picture, I’m pretty sure that was taken somewhere in the Poon Tang Valley, near the village of Phuc Hu.
Well suckers! You know who you are! You’re the ones that didn’t vote for this clown in the contest. It’s like being released from Gitmo…they just keep coming back.
Does this asshattery make him eligible for next year’s contest?
So, the plastic on the M16 would melt, huh? Funny, but all of those years that I carried one that never happened. And, oh, the trail ninja would fire his AK to attract the enemy, huh? I’m sure that the Viet Cong would randomly fire their rifles to signal each other, ya know, because shouting would be too loud.
The cat in the meow mix commercial was actually broadcasting the secret feline distress code to all listening and knowledgeable humans, telling them he was being held hostage by Purina. That is the letter “h” sent repeatedly in Morse code using short “meows”.
martinjmpr: didn’t you mean the village of “Phuc Yu”? (smile)
USMCE8Ret2012: I can’t believe you missed the party so far. When you’ve got a couple of hours free (literally), enter “Dallas Wittgenfeld” in the “Search This Site” box (top right of page). Also check “Whittgenfeld” (there’s one article about him that comes up with that spelling, too). Then grab a six pack and a barf bag and start reading. You’ll probably need both.
I’m confused about what a “FCC radio broadcast station endorsement” is and why he’d need whatever it is at age 16? I couldn’t find such an endorsement but maybe I didn’t look hard enough. I thought maybe he meant a Ham license but he would already know “Morris” Code if he had one.
Morris code? 500 soldier students? What an asscrack!
THE CONTINUING SAGA (Add a sentence or two!) Thanks Utah Vet
There I was on the path, wearing facepaint and a banana hammock with only my AK47 standing between me and certain death…… I’d slipped in early and dropped out of the sky at 0900, from 81,000 feet. I was armed only with an e-tool, my shelter-half tent pole, and a single round for my AK-47. The nightmares still haunt me. Sweat burned my eyes as Charlie drew close. There was no time to plan. Suddenly, I became aware of another’s presence and I heard a feint purr. It was Morris!
This is no shit, there I was, a lone Senior Master Super Sergeant (P) trapped in a little abandoned village called Suk Muk Dik in the Tu Bit Hoa province. I was surrounded by about a thousand VC with at least a dozen ninjas and all I had was a rusty P-38. Fortunately, Dallas Wittgenfeld piloted a Spectre gunship to my AO and made a perfect HANO (High-Altitude No Opening) jump, landing on his feet right in front of me. He gave me a curt nod, took my P-38 and killed all of the ninjas and 999 VC, leaving one survivor to carry the news back to Ho Chi Minh. No shit. If you don’t believe me, just ask him.
Ya know fellas, he’s not even funny anymore. He’s so far gone, mentally, that he doesn’t know fact from fantasy anymore.
Ok guys, I’ve been following your (Army) uniform regs, rank structure MOSs and unit TOs, etc so here goes. Witlessfuck was a radio operator MOS 05bravo, right? That would be a regular GI radio operator, nothing special, non airborne, LRRP, flying a$$hat, sooper trooper. Just a plain old comm guy. If he was SF, as he fantasizes, wouldn’t his MOS be 18echo? A Special Forces soldier who happens to be a radio operator, right?
Even though he’s not funny anymore he’s still sickening.
Maybe he meant Morris Dancers? That would seem to be more up his alley…….
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0dEZ4w7VRq4&feature=related
Just an update to refresh everyone’s memory about this high speed embellish-er http://scotty-stolenvaloroffendersexposed.blogspot.com/2012/06/dallas-wittgenfeld-army-embellish-er.html
@22 Dang it, I was going to use the High Altitude No Opening in my story…quickest way to hit the ground running.
There I was, down to my last ham and egg C ration, with only a filth encrusted P38…
@23: The 18-series MOS’s didn’t exist until around 1985. Prior to that SF soldiers were designated by an SQI (Skills Qualification Identifier) of S on their MOS (Military Occupational Specialty) designation. So, for example, an engineer would have been a 12B20 (20 indicating skill level 2 or a buck sergeant.) An SF soldier with that same MOS would be 12B2S with the “S” indicating that he was Special Forces qualified.
In 1993 the Army resurrected the S designation but that was for SF Support personnel, and there was no real ‘qualification’, you just had to have spent a certain amount of time assigned to USASOC units and you could apply to your S1 for the award of the S identifier. The idea was that this would allow you to be “tracked” into other USASOC units instead of being thrown into the Big Army when it came time for a reassignment. FWIW, I was awarded an S identifier in 1995 (96B3S) as a support guy in 3rd SF Group.
Good mo-o-o-orning, Vietnam! This is comin’ to you direct from the landing zone – that’s LZ for you dumbfuck turbine eaters – where I dropped in at the end of a long, long, long freefall from a non-measured 105,000 feet for the amusement of the local children of Phuc Hoc University kindergarten. I scared the crap out of them little ankle-biters because I was dressed as Viet Cong clown, wearing nothing but face paint and a banana hammock – that’s a Speedo for you amatoooer Olympians – and carryin’ a genuine plastic dimestore MK16 and a AK-57 loaded for bear, I tellya. It was heavy going, but in spite of the constant barrage of napalm and bouncing Bettys, and melted plastic on my weeponds, I managed to fight my weight out of the bush and the elephant grass and cut down some nasty Victrola Charlies at the same time, and I got the FCC license to prove that I was trained to do it, too.
Stay tuned for the next development from my fierce and fertile imagination, same time the third Tuesday of next week.
No shit, I was there.
“Going on a LRP Mission in Vietnam… I’m the guy on the right with half my head cut off.”
I suppose it was cut off on prior mission, and he was going out to recover it.
I’ll take 10:1 odds that he never found it?
@ 27 martinjmpr, thanks for the clarification. When I first started hanging out here I knew squat about anything Army. My nephew was the first soldier, in 2005, in our family since the Korean War!? Ok, I didn’t get it all right but I’m closer than I would have been 6-8 months ago!?:)
“Going on a LRP Mission in Vietnam… I’m the guy on the right with half my head cut off.”
And even then that’s half a brain more than I gave him credit for.
I suspect that Mr. Morris might object to being *cornfused* with Mr. Morse. But, that would be Dumbass….
I have contacted my lawyer. I will move to prosecute affenders. My name has been slandered. I lived nine good lives and do not deserve to be associated with Dallas Wigetfield.
Hmmmm….These are serious alligators! I have spokin with Dr. Richard Head at the VA and he told me I should procecute!
I am also a expert with a rifel and incenduaries!
Concider yourselves “ON NOTISS”
THE RTO COMMETH!
This mega loser, the liar and thief, was in civvies, in the barracks, in AIT? Did things change from my AIT days, (1960), until his a few years later?
This bitch boy lied to me, and about me, he stole from me and claimed my goods to be his own.
That tells me that when my day comes, when I jump in my Karma, I won’t have much to worry about except the pollution to my nostrils from his freshly shit pants.
Dullas Wideass is out to lunch. Looking at his writing, one must see that the wheel is turning but the hamster is dead.
“No shit, there I was need deep in spent brass and hand grenades, which was problematic as all I’d worn into combat that day was belts of ammo for my XMG-240B and a vest strung together of various hand grenades.
It was my 17th Birthday, and I’d been in the Army for 2 years, making the rank of Master Sergeant a week before, and this day would be the action they awarded me the Congressional Medal of Valorous Honor, and get me a battlefield commission to Major.
When my CO asked me what I wanted as a reward for killing 3 Viet Cong Generals and 36 body guards with my bare hands the week before, I had told him I wanted to be the QRF for the ODB at Lang Vei. As a 118Z, I was a one man SFODA, and had been pulled out of the Q Course for tryouts, after an accelerated 3 day Basic Training Course. Today, I was all that stood between an NVA Tank Regiment and the Fire Base they had nearly overran before I got there.
The 118Z course had been difficult for most, but it had only taken me 3 months to complete the 18C,D,E,F course and get the 118Z MOS. I still had blood on my face and hands from the VC Generals, and hadn’t slept in 9 days when the call came in to save the teams at Lang Vei.
I’d tell you more, but it’s classified….
Long Story short: I was ordered to Washington, despite my protests, for the MOVH ceremony and Commissioning, followed by the 18A course awarding me the 118A MOS which I finished in a record 8 days, before returning to the Nam to put an end the attack on Khe Sanh.”
You asked for war stories! (of the absurd variety).
From the fertile mind of a non-05B, who never rated the Class Leader room.
“BTW, you probably saw the moveie they made about that day, “Green Berets” with John Wayne. They were going to write me into the script, but my existence is classified.”
WOTN,
Thats better than how I lost my eye…
Paperclip fight, Siagon 67.
“Sorry ’bout that Jason. You looked like an insurgent for a second there, but I restrained myself before I drove it into your brainstem.”
I’ll also go one step further and guess that Army regs are similar to Navy regs in that you’re not allowed to be in your rack for purposes other than sleeping (and you better be SIQ if you’re in one between Revillee and Taps) and you SURE as fuck better not be wearing your uniform in the rack.
Sj
I did a search for the FCC Endorsement also and came up with nothing. Not sure what he means by that. I’m pretty sure he would not have had a General Radiotelephone License at age 16. That test was a stone bitch to pass. When I took it 237 sat for it and two of us passed.
Sparky maybe the pic was taken right before he was taken out back and beaten as a deterrent for others…
Charlie wouldn’t shoot the AKs to signal each other, you dimwits. They flipped them around like a drill team, and the flips, spins, and twirls would form a message in semaphore. That’s Morris code.
For some reason, that photo reminds me of Joey Heatherton doing a Serta mattress commercial.
teddy996: I thought Morris Code was shorthand for “I’m lying my ass off.”
@44. Bwahahahahah. I thought that I had seen that pic before! Thanks.
Please,@34 identify yourself for the brilliant satire. Good thing my mouth was empty at the time. SPEW WARNING PLEASE. Joe
THE CONTINUING SAGA (Add a sentence or two!) Thanks Utah Vet
…I added a paragraph. Ooops.
There I was on the path, wearing facepaint and a banana hammock with only my AK47 standing between me and certain death…… I’d slipped in early and dropped out of the sky at 0900, from 81,000 feet. I was armed only with an e-tool, my shelter-half tent pole, and a single round for my AK-47. The nightmares still haunt me. Sweat burned my eyes as Charlie drew close. There was no time to plan. Suddenly, I became aware of another’s presence and I heard a feint purr. It was Morris!
Morris hacked up the other half of my head and I quickly put it back on. Two eyes now! Full 360 degree awareness! Then I heard it… That distinct sound made by the preferred weapon of our enemy. Bang, Bang. Pause. Bang. I responded in fluent Morris code; Bang. Grinning like a truck stop whore after a bukake, I drew my e-tool and settled into the rice paddy to await some fresh kills.
Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe LRRP’s in RVN were generally three man reconnaissance units?
The guys I saw carried CAR-15’s with the very rare (at the time late ’67 – early ’68) 30 round magazines.
THE CONTINUING SAGA (Add a sentence or two!) Thanks Utah Vet
…I added a paragraph. Ooops.
There I was on the path, wearing facepaint and a banana hammock with only my AK47 standing between me and certain death…… I’d slipped in early and dropped out of the sky at 0900, from 81,000 feet. I was armed only with an e-tool, my shelter-half tent pole, and a single round for my AK-47. The nightmares still haunt me. Sweat burned my eyes as Charlie drew close. There was no time to plan. Suddenly, I became aware of another’s presence and I heard a feint purr. It was Morris!
Morris hacked up the other half of my head and I quickly put it back on. Two eyes now! Full 360 degree awareness! Then I heard it… That distinct sound made by the preferred weapon of our enemy. Bang, Bang. Pause. Bang. I responded in fluent Morris code; Bang. Grinning like a truck stop whore after a bukake, I drew my e-tool and settled into the rice paddy to await some fresh kills. Distraction. I needed a distraction. But what? How? Inexplicably, an image of Joey Heatherton came to mind. “That’s it!” I slowly inched a hand to my right boot and pulled my AIT Serta Bunk photo. From my left boot I pulled a half-eaten sardine in mustard sauce as Victor Charles readied for a final assault.