Author: Guy D. McCardle

Sometimes the secret to winning a war isn’t brute force—it’s Britney Spears, balloon tanks, or a chainsaw-wielding Uncle Sam staring down a dictator.

In the Comey-verse, truth wears purple trunks and a smirk, strolling beaches not for justice, but for one last shot at bestseller relevance.

The Trump administration just swung a wrecking ball through Washington’s national security and energy playbooks—gutting the NSC, greenlighting battlefield-ready nuclear reactors, and watching Kyiv burn under Russian missiles all in the same 48 hours. Welcome to Saturday May 24th, 2025, this is your SOFREP morning brief.

Barrett and MARS did more than win a contract—they built a shoulder-fired apocalypse launcher that turns cover and quadcopters into confetti.

When a woman gets shot at the gates of the CIA just hours after a pair of Israeli diplomats are gunned down in D.C., you don’t need a crystal ball to see the country’s nerves are fraying like a pair of cheap bootlaces.

The “Big Beautiful Bill” dangles shiny perks for troops while gutting the safety nets that many military families and veterans rely on to survive.

A night meant for clinking glasses and bridging divides ended with two young diplomats bleeding out on the sidewalk—killed not by a nation, but by blind hatred.

A single RPG hit turned a routine mission into a desperate fight for survival, and Chief Warrant Officer Michael Durant lived to tell the harrowing tale of Super Six Four.

Fury is so much more than a drone—it’s an extension of Palmer Luckey’s middle finger to the defense industry’s status quo, powered by Lattice and taking out bad guys at the speed of sound.

Locally built and lethally capable, the Su-30MKI armed with Astra missiles is India’s way of saying, “We make our own monsters now.”

Henry Johnson didn’t need elevated rank to prove his worth—just a rifle, a bolo knife, and the guts to take on a German raiding party alone in the dead of night.

When you’ve got a $5.9 million Black Hawk at your disposal and a hankering for elk antlers, common sense apparently flies right out the open cockpit door.