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Featured In15

More Stories13

  • E Skinless, Maneless, Hoofless, Fearless

    Applebloom is dying, and AJ must come to terms with it...
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  • E 9-4-6-1-2-4-2

    What do the numbers mean?
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  • E My Little Plushie

    A brony's wish comes true.
    4,561 words · 3,119 views  ·  133  ·  18
  • E I Have No Mouth and I Must Squee

    Fluttershy wakes up without her mouth. Who took her mouth?
    2,674 words · 549 views  ·  34  ·  2
  • T Usurped Dawn

    A man is tasked with assassinating Princess Celestia.
    21,852 words · 2,877 views  ·  159  ·  23
  • T PewDiePie Saves Equestria

    The famed Swedish gamer must go on an incredible journey to save the land of ponies.
    19,527 words · 10,204 views  ·  207  ·  34
  • T Terminus

    Something has attacked Manehattan, and seven friends must escape the city or die trying.
    16,385 words · 342 views  ·  35  ·  4
  • E Wings

    The mini-diary of Rainbow Dash as a jet pilot for the USAF
    3,873 words · 981 views  ·  40  ·  6

Blog Posts131

  • Tuesday
    On the topic of the Ferguson grand jury's decision

    As most of the country knows by now, last night a grand jury in Ferguson, Missouri, decided not to indict Officer Darren Wilson on criminal charges for the shooting of unarmed teenager Michael Brown. And as most of the country knows by now, what happened next is what I can only describe as pure anarchy.

    I knew the jury wasn't going to indict him. There was plenty of evidence, both forensic and testimonial (most of which can be viewed now that the jury has released documents related to the case) that supports Wilson's version of events; that Michael Brown attacked him viciously, continued to attack him despite being warned and subsequently shot, and (in my opinion) most importantly, that Brown DID NOT have his hands up when Wilson fired that shot that killed him.

    Does that mean I think Brown deserved to die? Absolutely not. Does that mean Wilson still used excessive force? Possibly. But regardless of how you feel about the case, whether Wilson should have been indicted or not, I think we can all agree on one thing: the actions of the protestors in Ferguson last night were absolutely disgusting.

    Nobody wanted violence. Not Brown's parents, not the President, not the actual people of Ferguson. I've no problem with peaceful protests. The right to lawfully and peacefully assemble is a fundamental American right. But what happened last night was barbaric.

    Buildings were set on fire. Police vehicles were destroyed. Dozens of shops were looted. People fired guns with live ammunition at police and each other. If Ferguson had been a place of mere unrest before, it became a full-out war zone last night. I watched it all night. I watched them torch those buildings to the ground, ruining the lives of the business owners. I watched them loot shops, attack police officers. I watched as the streets of Ferguson burned, and even then I cannot imagine what it must have been like to actually have been there.

    The worst part? Hardly any of those "protestors" were Ferguson residents. I strongly suspect that, while the people of Ferguson absolutely want answers and closure for what happened, they are just as horrified and disgusted at the sight of their town turning into a battleground.

    That was not "protesting". That was borderline terrorism. Yes, terrorism. The act of violence and intimidation in pursuit of political aims. Though I was not alive at the time, I couldn't help but draw parallels to the 1992 L.A. riots, where 55 people were murdered by "protestors". I've seen footage of those riots, and watching Ferguson descend into chaos last night, it was disturbingly similar.

    I think President Obama put it nicely when he said this:

    “[Progress] won’t be done by throwing bottles, [it] won’t be done by smashing car windows, [it] won’t be done by using this as an excuse to vandalize property and [it] certainly won’t be done by hurting anybody. To those in Ferguson, there are ways of channeling your concern constructively and there are ways to channeling your concerns destructively.”

    He's right. What good do these people do when they turn the town upside-down and cause mayhem and destruction? Do they honestly think that's going to solve the problems of racial bias and police brutality?

    I may not have been there. I may have a controversial opinion about the grand jury's decision. But goddamn it, I know that there are better ways to go about this than rioting, looting, and fighting. It's just a shame that they can't seem to understand this.

    Michael Brown is still dead, Darren Wilson is still not indicted, and Ferguson is burning. No justice, no peace.

    4 comments · 23 views
  • Saturday

    Anyone here a fan of Red vs Blue?

    17 comments · 34 views
  • 1w, 10h
    Thanks Rockstar

    Thanks for basically fucking over any fan of GTA V who can't afford to "upgrade" to a next gen console. Way to appreciate your fans, who made you billions of dollars, by leaving them high and dry so you can get even more money from "new" gamers. Thanks for using us "lower" gamers as test subjects for the GTA V beta, because that's basically what it was.

    Oh, and finally, thank you so much for promising the first major update for next gen to be heists, even though you said current gen would get online heists OVER A YEAR AGO and you have yet to fulfill your promise.

    It seems Rockstar has gone the way of Ubisoft and EA. Such a shame.

    4 comments · 18 views
  • 1w, 1d
    Note to self

    Never try to introduce logic to people in YouTube comment sections. They usually turn out to be gun-loving, furry-hating rape apologists (no joke)

    Don't know why I didn't figure it out sooner. Could have saved a lot of time.

    7 comments · 20 views
  • 1w, 3d
    More thoughts on Ferguson

    So this is another opinion on the shooting incident of Michael Brown in Ferguson. Why am I posting an analytical opinion of such a controversial topic on a website about pony stories.

    Dunno. But anyway, this is what I feel about the whole thing:

    1) This may upset a lot of people, but I personally believe that Officer Darren Wilson should not be indicted on murder/civil rights charges. Why? Mainly because there's a lot of evidence to support his version of what happened, especially forensic evidence. And forensic evidence is much, much more reliable than witness testimonies. Plus, it makes no sense to me why a white police officer in a predominantly black community, with no prior incidents or anything to suggest racial bias, would suddenly be motivated by racial bias to murder an unarmed teenager. It just doesn't add up.

    2) The protestors are doing more harm than good, and are sometimes just downright idiotic. Such as when Brown's parents went to the U.N.  For some reason, that really pissed me off. I mean, seriously? The U.N. has more important things to deal with than the death of a teenager in a small town in America, such as the deaths of thousands of innocent people at the hands of ISIL, or Ebola, or hunger, or civil war. And also, selling T-shirts with Brown's face on them, in most cases for personal profit (yes it actually happened), sounds more like capitalizing on a tragedy under the pretense of "seeking justice", rather than actually "seeking justice."

    3) Though there is no denying that white privilege exists and racism against African Americans is still alive in the U.S., there still seems to be a big double standard. Just like when the Christian Right was outraged at the Muslim who beheaded his Christian coworker, but were silent when a devout Christian beheaded his supposedly "Satanist" roommate, too often the African American community and its loudest pundits, such as Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton, are quiet when horrible injustices are inflicted upon whites by African Americans; such as the recent murder of a five-year-old girl in Milwaukee by a black gang. She was gunned down on her front porch while sitting in her grandfather's lap, and yet the national media is silent. Can you see the double standard here? Why does the media go apeshit and the community turn a town into a war zone when a white-on-black shooting takes place, a shooting that is clouded in uncertainty; yet nobody seems to give a shit when a young white girl is brutally murdered by a black gang, who had every intention of murdering her? I don't know about you, but I see some pretty big hypocrisy here. Does that mean that we should totally forget/ignore Michael Brown? Of course not. But it bothers me that such a double standard exists

    4) Finally, what pisses me off the most about the Ferguson protestors is their defense of Vonderitt Myers. In a town not too far away from Ferguson, Vonderitt Myers was being chased by an off-duty officer when suddenly he turned around and fired a handgun at the officer, who fired back and killed him. Unlike Michael Brown, Myers had an extensive criminal record, including weapons charges. Unlike Brown, forensic evidence proves that Myers was carrying and discharged a weapon, including gunshot residue on his hand and a handgun recovered from the scene. When a police officer is being fired upon, at that point, it is to shoot to kill. Not just because the officer's life is in danger, but because the lives of bystanders are also in danger. But I got extremely angry when protestors showed up and tried to draw parallels to the Michael Brown shooting. What infuriated me the most was when Myers' family made an absolutely ridiculous claim that Myers did not have a gun, but rather a "sandwich". Really? A sandwich? Oh, I didn't realize they found a BLT at the scene instead of a Beretta (or whatever model it was.) I didn't realize that it wasn't gunshot residue on Myers' hand; it was just mayo. And I didn't realize you were there to see that he had a sandwich in his hands. Give me a break. While there are still variables and unanswered questions in the Michael Brown case, forensic evidence suggests that the shooting of Myers was justified, the protestors who tried to defend Myers are blind, and that there was no fucking sandwich.

    That's all I have. Feel free to discuss or dissent, I welcome either. But let's try to keep it civil.

    14 comments · 48 views
  • ...
Click a paragraph to save bookmark


I had a dream last night.

In my dream, I was flying with Rainbow Dash, flying high above the clouds, watching Equestria unfold below us. We laughed and we smiled, trying to outfly each other. She didn’t seem to mind that I was human. She only wanted to have fun, and I was perfectly content with that.

We flew until the sun dipped over the horizon, and by then the sky was fiery orange. But when I looked up I felt intense heat on my face, and I smelled smoke. Dash said something to me, but I had gone deaf. Then I realized that the sky didn’t just look like it was on fire; it was on fire. The clouds had turned to blobs of ugly black smoke, and columns of flame burst from the sky’s maw, trapping us in a cage of fire. My hearing returned, and I heard the hungry roar of the flames. I heard my heart beat faster. I heard Rainbow Dash gasp for air.

Then it appeared.

A monster, unlike anything I’d ever seen before. It seemed to be made of the very flames from which it had just emerged. I saw its crimson eyes, its holocaustic teeth, and I heard it bellow in a voice that knocked us both from the sky and shook the ground that we collapsed upon.

It bore down on us. I had no energy left. I couldn’t move. I was bleeding. Rainbow Dash was crying…with fear? Realization? Or maybe…helplessness?

I never found out. At that moment, the fiery monster was practically on top of us. I didn’t know what to do.

The monster was going to kill me.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Rainbow Dash threw herself in front of me. Before either of us could make a sound, the fiery monster slammed into her, and I saw a look of helpless pain rip across her face. Her tears evaporated, her wings singed, and her rainbow hair caught fire. But she didn’t scream, nor did she writhe.

Rather, she looked at me.

Her eyes were wide with fear, and for the first time I realized that the famed Rainbow Dash was not invulnerable. She began to hyperventilate as her chest glowed red. She said something, many things, but I didn’t hear her.

She knew what was going to happen. Closing her eyes, she let herself be consumed by the flames.

Rainbow Dash disappeared inside a vortex of fire. As I screamed, the vortex contracted and then exploded, hurling a wall of fire toward me. I could do nothing but curl up in a protective position and wait for the flames to swallow me whole.

Nothing happened.

I looked up. The flames were gone. It was daytime. A few flecks of ash were all that remained of the great pegasus Rainbow Dash.

That, and the beautiful, iridescent rainbow that stretched over the cloudless sky…

That was last night. I had awoken the next morning bathed in sweat, so much so that the guy in the bed beneath me, Private Jimmy Tochak, thought I had pissed myself through the mattress.

For some reason, during my time in Afghanistan, training at Bagram Airfield or running patrols outside Kawari, nothing stood out as much as the dream. I couldn’t decide whether it was a dream or a nightmare. I’d been through hell and back in Afghanistan, dodging bullets and bombs, watching friends get killed or wounded so badly they wished they were dead. Not a day went by during my time there when I didn’t feel like I wouldn’t live to see tomorrow.

But then…

There I was now, sitting at the foot of my bunk in the barracks. It was 1102 hours. My unit was set to patrol Kawari within an hour. It was a cool August day, at least, cool for Afghani standards. The thermometer in the window read 93° Fahrenheit. And yet I was so cold, so utterly chilled…

Rainbow Dash…

My daughter, Julia, was the one who got me into My Little Pony. When my unit, the 13th Army Expeditionary Unit, ended combat operations in Iraq, I went home to my wife and daughter in Connecticut, if only temporarily. I knew I wouldn’t be in the States for long. We were taking casualties in Afghanistan, and though Obama kept preaching to the choir about troop withdrawal, I knew that we were being shuttled out of one shithole and dumped into another.

Still, the day I came home from Iraq was one of the happiest days of my life. I remember the snow falling outside and the happy shrieks that burst from Julia and her mother when I knocked on the door. I remembered our Siberian husky, Michelle, practically spazzing out with joy. Even our neighbors, the Thompsons, who had cousins in Iraq, came over. It was a night of happiness, of elation.

But it wouldn’t last. I was home no longer than two weeks. But those two weeks, I will never forget. Julia, then nine, had lost another tooth. My wife, Loren, had gotten promoted at her law firm. Everything seemed to be going well.

Then I had to tell them that I was going back.

Loren protested. Julia bawled and begged. Even Michelle seemed to avoid me, ducking away whenever I tried to pet her. I had suddenly become an enemy to my family, and I couldn’t blame them.

It is what it is, I had told Loren three days before I had to ship out. I have to do this.

I knew that every day she feared that she would get a phone call or that a man would knock on the front door and tell her that her husband was dead. I knew she worried to the point where she tried to Skype me nearly every week. I knew what would happen if Julia had to find out that she no longer had a father.

I knew, but I didn’t want to think about it.

The day before I went to Afghanistan, I caught my daughter in front of the television, absentmindedly stroking Michelle’s fur, her eyes glued to the screen. I sat down beside her and asked what she was watching.

“My Little Pony,” she replied, smiling. “It’s my favorite.”

Of course, I had heard about My Little Pony before, but this was back in the 90s when they were just objects of marketing ploys aimed at little children. This show seemed different. The characters were well-rounded, the content was amusing, and little by little I found myself engrossed with the ponies of Equestria…

“Oh yes, she loves that show,” Loren had said. “Can’t get enough of it. She’s got toys and dolls of it in her room.”

So I went up to Julia’s room and found, alongside with typical nine-year-old-girl bedroom material, pony figurines, pony drawings, and pony coloring books. Half the room was dedicated to ponies.

I felt safe in that room, for some reason. I felt like I belonged.

And so it began.

The day of my deployment, at JFK Airport, after our hugs and kisses and tearful goodbyes, my Julia stopped me one last time.


I turned around, the blast of the air-conditioning ruffling my fatigues. She ran up to me, Loren close behind. She was wearing her Disney princess shirt and a purple jacket, but she held something light blue in her hand. Her eyes glittered with tears as I knelt down to her.

“What is it, sweetie?”

Hiccupping, she stretched out her hand, revealing the blue object.

It was a pony figurine, a cyan, winged horse with a mane of rainbow hair, and a multicolored lightning bolt across its flank.

“This is Rainbow Dash, Daddy,” Julia said sadly. “I want you to have her.”

I was shocked. I didn’t know what to say. “But, Julie, that’s your toy…”

“Rainbow Dash represents the spirit of loyalty,” my daughter whispered. “She won’t leave you, Daddy. She’ll always be with you.”

My heart leapt at that point. I hugged my daughter so hard that I was afraid I might choke her, so I pulled away and fought back tears of my own.

“Thank you, honey,” I said, taking the pony from her hands and slipping it into my pocket. “You’ll always be with me, too.”

I kissed her cheek, and she wrapped her little arms around my neck.

I never wanted to let go.


I had been running my fingers over the plastic pony, daydreaming, when the sharp bark of my commanding officer brought me to attention. The Rainbow Dash figurine fell from my hands and, thankfully, rolled out of sight next to my trunk.

“Yes, Sergeant!” I called, standing at attention.

Sergeant Lionel Kassel, referred to by some as Lion Castle, stood in the doorway of the empty barracks. A powerfully built, battle-hardened man, his dark eyes matched his skin, stone-cold, icy. He was a no-nonsense kind of guy. Men who make sergeant generally are.

“Corporal Wolfe,” he said, addressing me and stepping further. “Your convoy rolls out for Kawari at 1230 hours. Explain to me why you are not dressed and ready to go.”

His voice was low, but not scathing. I had to pick my answer carefully. Staring straight ahead, I said, “I have no explanation, Sergeant!”

“Well then, Corporal, let me explain something to you: if I don’t see your sorry hide at Hanger 3, fully dressed and geared, in the next half-hour, I will put you on KP until the next rotation. Is that clear, Corporal?”

“Yes, Sergeant!”

“Get to it, soldier!” He turned on his heel and walked out.

I sighed and was about to get dressed when I remembered the Rainbow Dash figurine. Stooping down, I clutched it and observed it, wondering if I should bring it with me.

My daughter’s voice drifted into my mind. She’ll always be with you, Daddy…

I sighed and got ready, putting on my fatigues and slipping the plastic pegasus into the chest pocket.

I was geared in less than fifteen minutes, and when I stepped outside, I was blinded by the sun and slammed by the heat, both of which I had assumed I had gotten used to. Bagram was rife with activity today. A-10s and Blackhawks flew overhead as Humvees rolled down the tarmac. Crossing the base, I finally reached Hanger 3, catching sight of my men, armed and prepared. Sergeant Kassel was addressing them.

“…expect little crossfire, but the locals think Hazaras and Tajiks may be at each other’s throats in Kawari territory. This is a routine convoy assignment; get to Bravo Point, drop off the supplies, then get the hell out. Short and sweet. Private Tochak, I want you in Wolfe’s Humvee as gunner. Schmidt and Lewis, ride with Velazquez in the truck. Everyone else, to your usual positions. Let’s roll out!”

A cry of Hooah! rose up from the soldiers, and I joined in, even though I knew this was going to be a walk in the park.

See, I keep saying that I know things. But that, I didn’t know. I didn’t think it would be hard. I didn’t think that by the end of the day, more people whom I had come to call friends would be dead than ever before.

I never could have known.

Planning on vacationing around the world? Take my advice. Skip Afghanistan. Just imagine the Mojave Desert, except it’s filled with people that hate you. That’s how the place felt. I was riding shotgun in my Humvee. The driver, a private named Collins, wore aviators that were too big for his face. Dust practically blinded our vision as we drove along the unpaved road on our way to Kawari.

“So, Ben,” Collins said with a Texas drawl.

“So what?”

“So anything. I dunno, what else is there to talk about?”

“How about we don’t talk, and you keep your eyes on the road?”

“Oh, sure. What am I gonna do, hit a dust cloud? Maybe a scorpion or some shit?”


“Fine, fine, just tryin’ to make conversation.”

That was Ryan Collins for you. Never knew when to shut up, but a helluva good soldier.

A voice crackled over the radio. “Gold Four, come in. Over.”

I picked up the radio. “Roger, this is Gold Four, go ahead.

“Gold Four, this is Gold One, be advised, possible rocket fire coming from Kawari, northwest, about 113 degrees. Eyes on smoke trails, but no confirmed targets, over.”

I frowned. Rocket fire? “Gold One, acknowledged. Be prepared for possible enemy contact, but continue mission.”

“Solid copy, Gold Four. Out.”

I leaned back in my chair, feeling sweat drip down my brow. Collins giggled.

“Maybe we’ll kill some towelheads today.”

It was the last thing he ever said.

The moment the first Humvee entered the city limits of Kawari, I knew something was wrong. There were four Humvees in our convoy, followed by two cargo trucks. I was in the fourth Humvee, but I knew something was up. Call it what you will, but I had a feeling like we were in real deep shit.

My suspicions were confirmed when, from nowhere, a rocket screamed down the road and slammed into Gold One, exploding through the windshield.


Private Collins swerved around Gold Three as Gold Two, unable to stop in time, rammed into the back of the burning Humvee. Another rocket spiraled down, and I saw from the trail that it had come from a multistory apartment building to the northeast. The rocket detonated about twenty feet from the burning hulk of Gold One, throwing dust and smoke over the street.

Then the gunfire started, a steady rattle of AKs and M60s. Collins stepped on the gas as I readied my weapon, but suddenly a loud crack! drew my attention, and before I knew what was happening, our Humvee was on a collision course with a columned building.

We rammed the building at about thirty miles an hour, and had it not been for my seatbelt, I would’ve been killed. As my mind cleared and my vision returned to normal, I saw the cause of the accident: Private Collins had taken a sniper’s bullet to the throat, killing him instantly, and his weight had shifted itself onto the gas pedal. I pulled the radio as the battle raged around me.

“This is Gold Four! My driver is down! Multiple contacts to the north and RPG in the multistory building to the northwest!”

I didn’t wait for a response. Above me, Jimmy Tochak was not firing the mounted machine gun, and when his body fell through the opening in the roof of the Humvee, a bloody hole where his left eye had once been, I knew I was on my own.

I stumbled from the wreck of the Humvee. My nose was broken, and I was sure I had a concussion. But when the ground next to my boot snapped up, I became alert, taking cover behind a pillar on the covered sidewalk, returning fire.

It was a bottleneck. The combatants were firing from the north, and a rocket had managed to disable one of the cargo trucks, effectively blocking any way out of the city. We were trapped. The radio was a constant crackle of updates and screams. I heard the phrase “man down” over and over, but soon the gunfire had become so loud that I couldn’t hear anything except a ringing whine.

I fired on the multistory building. I fired down the street. If I saw movement, I fired. Shrapnel had shattered the ACOG scope on my M4A1, and I could barely see as it was.

Something slammed into my heart.


I saw black. The world was spinning. Everything seemed so distant, so muffled. Nobody was coming to save me. I was dead.

I was dead…

When I finally came to, the battle was mostly over. I found out some of our boys had gotten CAS from Phantoms and Apaches to nearly obliterate Kawari. I found myself strapped to a stretcher, the rhythmic thumping of Blackhawk rotors filling my ears.

I wasn’t dead.

But so many others were.

The bullet had gone through my vest, though it had caught on the Kevlar and slowed down minutely. Something else had stopped the bullet. I should have been dead.

The medics said nothing as they loaded me onto the Blackhawk. I didn’t say anything either. I was wondering how I was still alive.

Then I remembered.

Pain shot up my side as I reached into my bloody chest pocket, feeling the bullet hole and biting my tongue to keep from crying out.


I withdrew my hand. In my palm were bloody fragments of plastic and shrapnel, once blue. The biggest piece, torn and marred by the bullet, was covered in my blood, but through the crimson I could see it was a head, a head with rainbow-colored hair…

The pony in my pocket. Shattered, bloodied.

The pony in my pocket saved my life.

I thought back to my dream, when I flew with Rainbow Dash, when she exploded in flame, when she dove in front of me, to…

To save my life.

I smiled. On a day of wanton death, I smiled.

Thank you, Julia.

Thank you, Rainbow Dash.

I’d be lost without you.

I closed my eyes and let sleep overtake me, and my sleep was peaceful and dreamless.

#1 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

It's an old story... but with a new twist.  I approve.

#2 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

Wow, That was moving.

Great story, Mate.

#3 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

This was amazing. I swear... you deserve more than one like from me. :pinkiesad2:

#4 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

hope you got more.

#5 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

Great story. I love it.

#6 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

Rainbow Dash: Saving the day in Ponyville and in Afghanistan!:rainbowdetermined2:

*standing ovation*

#7 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·


I love this. Seriously.  I can't describe how much I like it.

#8 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

“Rainbow Dash represents the spirit of loyalty,” my daughter whispered. “She won’t leave you, Daddy. She’ll always be with you.”

Daughter and RD brohoof /)*(\, they totally saw that coming :rainbowdetermined2:

#9 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

Rainbow Dash: saving the Day in fiction AND reality! :rainbowderp:

Man, that's impressive. Very moving, very emotional, and i have absolutely no suggestions, perfect.

I wish I could press the like button more then once...:twilightsmile:

#10 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

So glad y'all liked this. My personal goal is to have at least one story with over 500 views. Think any o' y'all can help me with that? :pinkiehappy:?

#11 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

Nice story and congratulations, you just got featured.

#12 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·


#13 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

Manly tears were shed brony. Many manly tears... :pinkiesad2::fluttercry:

#14 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

This really touched my heart :pinkiesad2:

#16 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

Always nice to see a story that's enjoyable and engaging even when the entire plot is laid out at the start. Well done.

#17 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

you made me cry

you are now liked, faved and watched

FOREVER!! :pinkiegasp:

#18 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

Oh my... I think I am crying. This was wonderfull and well written. Good job.

I have family and friends in the millitary so this really got to me so thank you for writing this.

Time for a fave and thumbs up.

#19 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

This is beautiful

#20 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

Successful, man.  Successful.  To me, this story is a reminder that true loyalty is in the heart and is willing to take what blows it must in order keep friendship alive.

#21 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

That was amazing. I swear I shed a tear somewhere in there. Very touching, and very well-written.:pinkiesmile:

#22 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

grammar... excellent

storyline... excellent

gripping moments... flawless

true to the stories tags... yes

long enough... no

well written... seen worse

chapters... sub-par

ending... abrupt

Max Approves

#23 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

You deserve a party planned by pinkie pie herself.

#24 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·


There's patriotism.

Then there's worshiping...

#25 · 140w, 4d ago · · ·

>>332151 If you wanna see thoughtless worship of the military, look at Hitler in Germany or Mussolini in Italy in the 1920's and 1930's. While I agree that some people treat the military like a religion, most men and women who join the armed forces do so in order to fight for those who cannot. Sorry if it sounds like I'm raging, but I have a brother in the marines and your comment kinda got on my nerves.

Now that that's out of my system, awesome work Brony. I felt tears start to well up in my eyes towards the end and that, my good sir, is not easy to do.

#26 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

Beautiful story, very touching.

#27 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·


Great story and I hope you reach your goal. Actually, I'll be surprised if you don't shatter it. :rainbowdetermined2:

#28 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

idk y but i didnt cry, heh, i might be a heartless bastard. great story tho

#29 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

Loved it, absolutely loved every single bit of it.  Awesome work! :pinkiehappy:

#30 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

So many tears...:fluttercry:

#31 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

:rainbowdetermined2: All in a days work for Rainbow Dash

#32 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

>>331637 Beautiful shit bro. Beautiful shit.

#33 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

:rainbowdetermined2: R.I.P

Raibow dash, fasist pony in all the world,

Was loyal to her friends to the very end

#34 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

great story only problem was the vehicle he was in. first it was gold four and gold one was blown up first and then he was riding in gold one?

#35 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

Wow, there is nothing I can say that hasnt been said, but I have to say it was a great story

#36 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·


*stands with, serious face* .... *clap* .... *clap* ...*clap**clap**clapclapclap!!!!*

#37 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

Don't ask for "at least 500 views", you deserve at leat 2,000-4,000, this is a beautifully written story

#38 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

:coolphoto: Short, but powerful. Awesome stuff! :coolphoto:

#39 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

I only have one complaint about this, despite the entire thing being outside of my normal sphere of interest.

My complaint is this... At one point the character identifies himself as Gold Four, and later he's become the Gold One he responded to... or at least it very much seems that way.

[ I picked up the radio. “Roger, this is Gold Four, go ahead. ] (and you missed a ")

And then later...

[ I pulled the radio as the battle raged around me.

“This is Gold One! My driver is down! Multiple contacts to the north and RPG in the multistory building to the northwest!”

I didn’t wait for a response. ]

Aside from that, and in spite of not being something I'd normally ever read...I thought it was excellent.

I don't think it needed to be any longer or shorter. It had a simple message to convey, and it did so in the appropriate amount of time, and with the appropriate candor.

#40 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

Sir, let me thank you deeply for writing this story. It was a fantastic read, and really struck a personal chord with me. I've been deployed to Afghanistan for the past year, and am happily nearing the end of my stay here. Normally stories about deployments do not get to me like this, but this one struck a note because of the pony; I keep a little pony toy of my own in my chest pocket as well, a gift from my family the day before I left almost a year ago.

Again, thank you so much for writing such a touching story :pinkiesad2:

#41 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

I have to ask... Did this actually happen?

#42 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

That was wonderful.

#43 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

Manly tears.

#44 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

Touching, action packed, and a military story. You sir, are fucking awesome.

Rainbow saved his life.:rainbowderp: This is amazing.

#45 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

The real cause of the end of the world will be tears :fluttercry: (EPIC STORY BRO!:rainbowkiss:)

#46 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·


#47 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

:rainbowkiss::rainbowlaugh::twilightsmile::pinkiehappy:BRONY SALUTE, i love this story corperal keep up the good work and you may get a promotion

#48 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

Wow amazing

#49 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·



#50 · 140w, 3d ago · · ·

I am almost certain that this actually did happen in some form.

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