Marines in Maui: “We’re in the Shit!”

United States Marines in Maui had to tactically abort a gunfight with National Guardsmen blockading entry to homes the Maui fires had reduced to skeletal frames or smoldering ruins. The Guardsmen, part of the criminal Biden regime’s illegal Joint Task Force 5-0, had held refugees at gunpoint while FEMA pilfered private belongings that survived the blaze from heaps of ash.

On Wednesday, September 6, a Marine recon platoon in Lahaina met a frazzled middle-aged man who mistook them for Biden loyalists and hurled Molotov cocktails in their direction, screaming he would punish the murderers who killed his wife and left his children motherless. The Marines avoided injury, pacified the grief-stricken father, and assured him they had no part in his wife’s demise. As a corpsman treated him for dehydration and a headwound, the man recounted how “soldiers” put a bullet in his wife’s brain for challenging their tactics while she sifted through remnants of their property for irreplaceable family heirlooms.

The man claimed “hundreds of soldiers and federal agents” shanghaied residents, forcibly relocating them to a “tent compound” east of the Maui Forest Reserve because the fires had poisoned Lahaina’s air and scattered toxins throughout the neighborhood. When his feisty wife asked Guardsmen why they didn’t wear respirators, she was shot dead. He and his adolescent children were a short distance away, scouring for food, when they heard the gunshot and saw her collapse. He covered his son and daughter’s mouths to silence their screams and fled the area for a veiled enclave where they and other survivors had successfully hidden from National Guard patrols. His children, he told the Marines, were grieving among others who had lost friends and family.

Our source in General Smith’s office said the toxin tale is straight out of a Close Encounters of the Third Kind scene in which the feds fake a chemical spill to evacuate a town to conceal the Mothership’s arrival at the summit of Devil’s Tower.

“We’ve checked the air in Lahaina. There are no poisons, pollutants, or toxic air. It’s all a smokescreen, and that poor guy’s wife caught on quickly,” our source said.

He added that the feds employ cunning guile and have unlimited options at their disposal, in deceiving the public.

“The father would not divulge the hideaway, but he did point the Marines to the tent city and the National Guard/FEMA looters in east Lahaina. He even wanted a rifle to kill his wife’s killer, but the Marines said they would deal with the bastards and told him to go to his children, and they’d get them all to safety later. The guy warned the Marines to get a larger force before assaulting the tent city,” our source said.

The platoon leader spoke with superiors at Marine Corps Base Hawaii and was told he could either await reinforcements before assailing the tent city or investigate the site of the woman’s murder, provided that he did not rush headstrong into an unwinnable confrontation or stumble into an ambush, for his reconnaissance Marines, the tip of the spearhead, were trained to penetrate enemy lines—to observe, hunt, and kill in any environment, land, sea, or air. But they numbered less than 1,000 across the entire Corps, and they were not easily replaceable.

When told backup was hours away, the platoon leader said he would cautiously investigate the father’s story and report his findings.

The platoon approached what social media has dubbed “the Biden curtain,” a 12-foot-high barrier made of woven mesh, stapled to a shoddily built wood frame separating Lahaina Bypass from an almost perfect rectangle of scorched homes and businesses to the southwest. The platoon commander noted that anyone with decent scissors or a pocketknife could slice it open and step inside.

They walked the perimeter and heard footfalls on the opposite side. Then overheard a conversation in which a male voice giddily said that a rebuilt Lahaina would epitomize future American cities, wondrously enhanced with a central algorithm able to gauge one’s needs and pinpoint those needs within walking distance.

The Marines continued along the fence line searching for an opening, but finding none, they cut a small hole in the mesh with a Ka-Bar knife. They peered upon the devastation and saw roving patrols and scores of Guardsmen shoveling debris into tipper trucks, meaning somewhere along the fence was an opening or a gate large enough to accommodate sizeable vehicles.

The platoon leader, however, spotted a standing brick building with a high enough roof to serve as an observation post overlooking the enclosure. He pointed out the AC units on the rooftop, saying the building had to have an access point. He divided the platoon into 4-man teams, two to hold position and two to breach the perimeter. After slicing a man-sized gap in the mesh, he ordered one fireteam to remain outside the building, supplying cover, while the other accessed the roof. The rest would stay behind the fence on standby should the shit hit the fan.

One team reached the rooftop unseen and reported they could see at least 70 Guardsmen and a dozen FEMA agents roaming the streets and burglarizing private property the feds had unlawfully seized under laws governing eminent domain. The team leader then said he spotted an enemy kingpin, General Charles Flynn, Commander JTF 5-0, encircled by a throng of fawning junior officers. He told the platoon leader that he, armed with an M40 sniper rifle, could unerringly make the 600-yard shot.

“Negative. They want him alive. Looks like we’ll need backup on this one, too. Egress now,” the platoon leader replied.

No sooner had they exited the building than a bullet, and another, zipped through a Marine’s leg, severing his femoral artery and spilling blood on the ground. A comrade lifted him in a fireman’s carry and hustled for the fence, covered by a phalanx of defensive fire. Another Marine took one in the arm but said he was still in the fight as with one hand he swung his rifle toward the 12-man-strong National Guard patrol that must have caught them by surprise. The Marines ran for the fence while laying down streams of suppressive fire, hitting at least three aggressors who hadn’t taken cover. One’s knee exploded. A second got hit three times in the face, dead for sure.

“We’re in the shit. I repeat: We’re in the shit,” the platoon leader radioed his superiors.

Once the Marines exited the fence, all four teams unleashed hell, emptying countless magazines through the dense mesh, hoping their shots struck the remaining guardsmen or equalized the engagement by forcing them to retreat.

Marine Corps Base Hawaii instructed the platoon leader to disengage and withdraw to rally point Bravo for triage and to wait for support.

The moil of defeating Deep Staters, our source said, seems an endless affair, fraught with peril and casualties.

“The Guardsmen did not pursue them beyond the fence. Armed Forces commanders who pledged allegiance to Joseph Biden are making these fights damn harder for us. If it was just the feds, it’d be game over by now,” our source said.

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