Latest news with #S.O.S.
Metro
30-04-2025
- Politics
- Metro
SOS scrawled in dirt by men fearing deportation to El Salvador prison
A human SOS written in the dirt could be its makers' last cry for help before they're shipped to an El Salvador prison so brutal it has sparked unverified conspiracy theories of death camps and torture. Inmates get no visits, no daylight, and little prospect of release, once locked in 70-person cells at the maximum security CECOT prison, branded 'Guantanámo on steroids'. Built to house alleged members and associates of Salvadoran gangs, it has now become central to Donald Trump's immigration crackdown. More than 200 people have already been deported there from the US, including Kilmar Abrego Garcia, a Salvadoran national granted protected status in the US in 2019. He was seized by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents and accused of playing a 'prominent role in MS-13' after picking up his son in Maryland. The accusation wasn't true, and the US has since admitted it illegally deported him. But the Trump administration has said it can't get him back, and Salvadoran President Nayib Bukele won't return him. 'Oopsie… Too late', Bukele wrote on X, formerly Twitter. That's a fate feared by 31 men who assembled themselves in the shape of S.O.S. in the yard of Bluebonnet detention centre in Texas on Monday. It was captured by a drone flown by Reuters news agency. Dozens of Venezuelan detainees there were this month accused of being members of the Tren de Aragua gang, which Trump has claimed is carrying out 'irregular warfare' and 'hostile actions' in the US. Seven of their families have denied these claims of gang membership. Among them is Jeferson Escalona, 19, who was a police officer in Venezuela. He believes US authorities saw pictures of him making hand signs common in Venezuela when they seized his phone. It wouldn't be the first time US officials have seen gang signs where there aren't any. British man Pete Belton, 44, was shocked to find a picture of his clockface tattoo, showing the time his daughter was born, in a document used to identify gang members. 'I fear for my life here', said Escalona, who was denied his request to voluntarily return to Venezuela. 'They're making false accusations about me. I don't belong to any gang.' Trump has revived a 1798 law – last used to detain 120,000 Japanese people without trial during World War Two – to speed up deportations of alleged gang members. Hundreds of thousands of Venezuelans have fled to the US in recent years, escaping economic collapse and an authoritarian crackdown by President Nicolas Maduro. But Trump has branded this an 'invasion'. His use of the Alien Enemies Act allows him to bypass immigration courts, despite some of the detainees having dates set. Diover Millan, a 24-year-old construction worker with no criminal record, has an asylum hearing on May 1. More Trending 'If he gets removed under the Alien Enemies Act, then that court date doesn't exist, he'll never have that court date', a US official explained in a recording heard by Reuters earlier last week. This lack of opportunity to appeal their case, or have the accusations tested, is alarming for those fearing deportation to CECOT. In the recording, one said: 'If I don't have a criminal record in the three countries in which I have lived in, how are they going to send me to El Salvador?' The Supreme Court has temporarily blocked their deportations. Get in touch with our news team by emailing us at webnews@ For more stories like this, check our news page. MORE: Donald Trump's chief of staff issues major update on Elon Musk's White House role MORE: Friend's heartfelt appeal to British Paralympian missing in Las Vegas for two weeks MORE: One person dead and multiple injured after boat crashes into ferry in Florida
Yahoo
18-04-2025
- Climate
- Yahoo
96-year-old Memphis veteran receives outstanding tribute
SHELBY COUNTY, Tenn. — He flew 400 combat missions, has been awarded more than 50 medals and citations, and now he's being honored with one of the most prestigious awards in the state. Col. Elmer Follis Jr. is now 96 years old. 'Born in Memphis. Lived here all my life until I went into service,' Follis said. He was 17 years old when he enlisted into the Marines. 'I made it through boot camp. I went into aviation mechanic school and after aviation mechanic school, I was transferred to a marine airbase,' he said. Follis discovered a love for flying continuing lessons after he was discharged and enlisted in the Air Force in 1951. He quickly earned his pilot wings and jet fighter-bomber training. 'The rest is history I guess,' Follis said. A year later, he was deployed to Korea where he flew 100 combat missions and got to meet President Dwight Eisenhower when he visited troops. 'The president was going to drive down and observe all the airplanes. I was picked from my squadron. It was snowing. There was 10-12 inches of snow on the ground. It was a blizzard,' he said. 'As he approached it, I stood there and saluted. He stopped, and the president got out.' Follis said the president wanted a briefing. 'I thought to myself here's a man that led the invasion of Europe WWII. He knows more about this airplane than I do. He's being so nice,' Follis said. 'We talked [for] ten minutes.' Follis doesn't call that his proudest moment though. That came in 1967 during his tour in Vietnam. New businesses aim to thrive in Downtown Memphis revitalization He got an S.O.S. message that troops were being overrun near Dak To by the North Vietnamese Army. 'If they did not get that close air support, they would be overrun by the enemy, with catastrophic casualties,' Follis said. 'A typhoon was in Vietnam. A typhoon is a hurricane.' He was part of a three ship mission. They flew through a treacherous typhoon into mountainous terrain. Their plane was getting low fuel. 'When he called for bingo fuel, we still had one bomb and all of our cannon ammo left. That's when I thought we were going to go home, but the flight lead said no. We flew through a typhoon to come up here and save as many lives as we can,' he said. 'Most of the people fighting in Vietnam were teenagers. That was the age 19. There were a lot of teenagers down there that were dying.' They managed to drop 750 bombs at close range and saved one battalion of men, which is an estimated 600 lives. 'When we got back home. We had to land with emergency fuel the base was below minimum. No alternates available,' he said. 'You pray and say, 'Lord let me see that runaway before I hit it.' Thankfully, we all made it.' During a Veteran's Day program in 2017, Col. Follis relived the mission to a large crowd. Matt Van Epps was in the audience. 'In 1967, my dad was in the fourth infantry division as a tunnel rat. He was in Vietnam,' said Van Epps. He was the assistant commissioner for Tennessee Veteran Services at the time. He oversaw the western region. He's now the Commissioner of the Tennessee Department of General Services. '[Follis] was talking about this mission where there was close air support both Army and Air Force, and they were being overrun,' he said. 'Col. Follis is ticking through these details. I'm like that sounds really close to the story my dad used to tell my brother and me. I think that might be, my dad's unit.' Van Epps was at the edge of his seat as Follis underscored the hundreds of lives saved, and the children who would not have been born if it weren't for that mission. 'So when he got done, I said I think I might be one of those kids,' Van Epps said. 'He did that knowing he may not come home. He did it to protect others, so others like my dad could come home. I have so much respect and thankfulness.' Follis was also shocked to hear what Van Epps said. 'Destroying the community,' Memphis leaders debate over safety of xAI turbines 'I think both of us were crying. It was very, very emotional at the time. I think both of us had tears in our eyes that day,' Follis said. Follis retired with 5,500 hours and 400 combat missions. His career later became centered around nuclear operations as he became the Department of Defense Chief of the Air Force Central Command's Nuclear Branch. He has more than 50 medals and citations including five distinguished flying crosses. He'll now receive another remarkable tribute. He will be inducted into the Tennessee Aviation Hall of Fame. The application process is intricate, and this year, Follis is the only inductee from our region. The ceremony takes place this fall. Follis' entire family will be there. He tells us it will be bittersweet. 'It's a thrill. It's a thrill to be honored,' Follis said. 'I will be 97 when I get it, within a few days. That means I won't be around to enjoy it very long.' While he wishes he'd had more time to enjoy it, he knows he's lived a life to be proud of. The mementos pictures have been added to his collection. They tell his life story of duty, honor and bravery. A legacy that will now be engraved and never forgotten. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
New York Times
31-03-2025
- General
- New York Times
The Army Has a Fast-Food Problem. Can a TV Chef Fix That?
Army food has been vexing and perplexing the soldiers who have to eat it for about as long as there's been an Army. An age-old marching song describes a biscuit that 'rolled off the table and killed a friend of mine.' Troops in World War II immortalized a much-reviled beef dish with the nickname S.O.S., an acronym that still can't be translated in this newspaper. And at lunchtime on a recent Wednesday, a mess hall at Fort Jackson in South Carolina was serving up tacos filled with nondescript meat that glistened with grease. The brussels sprouts had the green boiled out of them. The hall itself looked bland and dated. But just steps away at Victory Fresh, a small, sleek fast-casual cafeteria that shares the mess-hall kitchen, cooks were pulling individual-size pizzas from a $45,000 Marra Forni oven. The brisket had been cured and charred on-site, then carved to order. Dessert included narrow wedges of cheesecake, marbled missiles of sweet cream cheese cut with bitter chocolate. The celebrity chef Robert Irvine, who opened Victory Fresh last year, was finishing his lunch when a towering figure in fatigues marched up. The soldier, who introduced himself as Sgt. Major Joshua R. Bitle, declared that in 28 years in the military, he'd never eaten as well as he just had. Then a note of exasperation entered the sergeant's voice. Why, he asked, wasn't there a Victory Fresh on every base? 'Nobody has given me an explanation for why we can't do it.' Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
