Plum City – (AbelDanger.net). United States Marine Field McConnell has linked spread-bet sniper nests, apparently positioned on 22nd of November 1963 in Dealey Plaza, Dallas by the late John Profumo, former U.K. Minister for War, and the late General Alexander Haig, former DCSOPS staff officer at the Pentagon (1962–64), to the use of an allegedly-failed Telstar satellite communications system in spot fixing the two sets of bullets which hit President John F. Kennedy (JFK), a cricket pitch apart (22 yards).
How John F. Kennedy (JFK) was really killed (mystery second shot)
The Tornados– Telstar
JFK Assassination Snipers Nest Most Don't Know About!
“The Case of the Impossible Shots
To see what would have had to transpire on the 22nd of November, 1963, to accomplish what the Warren Commission stated "Oswald" did, we must return to the scene of the crime and recreate the events. We must look at Dealey Plaza--through a sniper's eyes. It is only this way, with the information presented here, that one can begin to comprehend how false the Warren Commission's verdict was:
It's a warm, muggy November day. But only two windows on the 6th Floor are opened in the un-airconditioned building. You are sweating, both because of the heat and because of what you are getting ready to do. Your plans are just about to culminate in your chance to change history (for whatever motive). You look at your watch. It's almost time. You pick up your rifle and kneel at the window overlooking Elm Street. Even though there is a large crowd below, you are unconcerned about being seen--even with the weapon.
For some unfathomable reason, you have picked a confined area of Elm Street as your kill zone. You have disregarded Houston Street, which is aligned perfectly with your corner of the building, affording you a straight head-on shot for over a block where the motorcade will move slowly toward you. But shooting Kennedy from the front, where he is most vulnerable, is not what you intend to do. You have decided, for some reason to shoot Kennedy in the back, through the trees, on a winding street, at a relatively steep vertical angle, in a partially obscured, confined area that is barely visible from the window on the Elm side.
Now it's time. The motorcade is approaching. You work the bolt on the Carcano, chambering an unpredictable round-nosed 6.5mm cartridge. You bring the short-barreled carbine to your shoulder (it wasn't really a rifle), and sight through the misaligned, non-boresighted scope with defective optics and loose mount, and study the thin crosshairs. Your field of view is almost non-existent. You note that you can barely pick out one or two people in the circular lens. To bring this weapon on target after the recoil of a shot will be challenging, to say the least.
You wait. The motorcade turns the corner onto Elm, each vehicle almost stopping as they negotiate the 120 degree turn. Then you see the President. He looks different in person, alive, human. And there's Jackie. And Connally...
You are not looking though the scope now. You are simply watching the cars move slowly down Elm. You wait for a few seconds as they come into your kill zone, then raise the scope to your eye, taking a second to establish the proper eye-relief between your eyeball and the lens so that "half-moon shadows" don't appear on the edge of the sight picture. After all, the crosshairs and scope have to be exactly aligned or you will miss the target entirely. And this has to be done after every shot.
But wait, you are not a trained sniper. You have no idea of the "high-low" formula, or the minute-of-angle rule. You don't realize that a sniper, shooting from high to low angle, has to aim low. You don't realize that if you don't aim low at the range you have selected, that you will miss the target by up to a foot. No one has told you that because of the effects of gravity, the bullet will not drop an appreciable amount--like it did on the rifle range which was a flat-trajectory shot.
Maybe sweat is not stinging your eyes, and maybe your hands aren't shaking even though you have never killed anyone before and are now about to do so. But more than likely, you find it hard to hold the rifle on target. But you must. Seconds are ticking by and you will miss your chance. Don't worry about the time, concentrate on the crosshairs. But wait, no one ever told you to do that. Instead, you are watching the target, which is clear in your scope, and your crosshairs are a blur--exactly the opposite of what must occur for an accurate shot.
Never mind. You have other problems to contend with. Your adrenalin is pumping and you find your arms acting like they are detached from your body. Somehow you manage to regain mental control of your limbs, and at the same time attempt to control your breathing. What did they say on the rifle range in the Marines? Oh yes, "BRASS." Breath, Relax, Aim, Slack, Squeeze. That's it.
You hold your breath, try your best to relax, aim the weapon--centering on the head of the President of the United States in your scope, take up the slack from the trigger and squeeze...
The first shot jolts you back to reality. You've done it! But did you hit anything? Now your adrenalin is really pumping as your curiosity makes you glance quickly at the street below while you take the weapon away from your line of vision to work the bolt, chambering a fresh round.
You realign, sight in again as the dark blue Lincoln begins to disappear around the bend behind that damned tree. Screw it. Shoot. This time you manage to get the shot off a little faster. "Buck Fever" has subsided a bit. Still, you aren't sure if you hit anything because in your haste you jerked the trigger--you didn't have time for a proper squeeze. You work the bolt again, ejecting the spent casing to the right and across the room into the cardboard boxes--or at least that's where it should have gone.
Your last shot. The car is now at maximum range--actually almost out of view--but miraculously, for some reason, the car slows almost to a complete stop. You even see the brake lights come on. You shoot. Unknown to you this round hits Connally. All of a sudden the car speeds up and dashes away under the triple overpass.
Elapsed time so far since the first shot, 5.6 seconds! Not bad, considering that it takes a minimum of 3.3 seconds to fire, work the bolt, and fire again--and then only if you don't take time to accurately realign the rifle on the target before the next shot.
It's time to get away. You pull back from the window and sprint to the opposite end of the 6th floor, noting that there still is not a single person who has come up from the floor below to investigate the noise of the shots. You find a place between some boxes to hide the carbine. You didn't note, in your haste, that you left your lunch sack and a pop bottle that would undoubtedly contain your finger prints behind at the window, and nearby, only a few inches from the wall, just to the right of the window, are the three expended 6.5mm casings--neatly grouped as if they'd been placed there on purpose. Mysteriously, there is no stripper clip which should have fallen to the floor through the magazine floor plate--and the weapon could not have functioned without it!
You race down the stairs to the second floor (the elevator is stuck on a floor below) and enter the coffee room. You have time to fish some change out of your pocket, buy a coke, and drink half of it in the few seconds it took for a policeman to rush into the Depository, charge up one flight of stairs and charge up to the door of the room. He notes that you are standing casually by the Coke machine, haven't broken a sweat, and that you seem calm, breathing normally. This feat in itself is quite remarkable considering that you had to run completely across the 6th floor after taking your last shot, maneuvering around stacks of boxes as you raced away from your "sniper's nest," to the opposite (northwest) corner of the warehouse to the stair well. You then had to race unseen down four flights of stairs, then across the building's second floor to the coffee room where you had time to fish a dime from your pocket, buy the Coke from the vending machine, and drink half of it Call in one minute or less from the time the final shot was fired! (According the Gerald Posner in his "Oswald-did-it-the-Warren-Commission- was-right" book Case Closed, this is what had to have happened for Oswald to have accomplished his single- sniper feat).
The policeman, Dallas motorcycle officer Marrion Baker, asks your boss if you are an employee. When this is confirmed, he breaks away to search the floors above.
A few seconds later, after Baker is out of sight, you make your getaway. But instead of taking some pre-planned mode of transportation out of town, you simply walk out the front door where you run into NBC reporter Robert McNeil who asks directions to the nearest telephone. You deal with him in a very calm, collected manner, then go home to your rented room. You know that you will soon be missed at work, that the Dallas police will begin rounding up anyone in the vicinity to question almost immediately, but you still don't try to escape by leaving the city. Even if you decided at the last moment to attempt such a move, you wouldn't be able to get very far on the $17.00 you have in your pocket. Instead, you decide to take a walk--outside, in public view.
Twenty-three years after those shots were fired, I walked away from the window in disgust. I had seen all I needed to know that Oswald could not have been the lone shooter. As I walked toward the elevator I began to look at the scene as a police officer. If one could forget that the victim was the President of the United States and this was a political assassination, and simply worked the scene as a standard homicide, perhaps it could be put into manageable perspective. The next thing that would have to be done would be to examine the rest of Dealey Plaza.
A homicide scene is not simply the place the body was found. It is the entire area of influence that might contain clues. In this case, crime scene was anywhere within range of a high-powered rifle.
I walked out of the Book Depository and crossed the street. I stopped for a moment and looked around. There were several possible spots for a second shooter--which meant that more than two riflemen could have been positioned. Exactly what positions were utilized depended upon the physical trajectories of the bullets that had been fired. That would come later.
I walked all around Dealey Plaza, exploring any spot that I felt might serve the purpose of a sniper. Finally I arrived at the Grassy Knoll and the Picket Fence, which I had purposely saved for last. I walked up the slope and around the fence, arriving in a parking lot that was bordered on the northwest by train tracks. I walked the length of the fence, stopping at a spot on the eastern end.
I looked over the fence at Elm Street and froze. This is exactly where I would position myself if I wanted the most accurate shot possible considering the terrain I had explored. It had some drawbacks--it was close to witnesses, and prone to pre-incident discovery--but the advantages far outweighed the disadvantages for a determined assassin. The target vehicle would be approaching instead of moving away, thereby continually decreasing the range; the shot would be almost flat trajectory, making the down-angle formula a mute point; the deflection (right/left angle) would change little until the car passed a freeway sign on the north curbline; and finally, it offered numerous escape route possibilities. Behind me, to the north and west, was a parking lot full of cars, a train yard full of boxcars, and several physical terrain features to use as cover during withdrawal. It was by far the best spot.
Looking almost due east, across the grassy open park-like Plaza, I could see two multi-story office-type buildings approximately the same height as the Depository. The roof tops of either building would be excellent firing positions for a trained rifleman with the proper equipment, and would be the places I would select if I wanted the best possible chance of not being detected in advance. Without going to the roofs of each, I could not determine the accessibility of escape routes. But for firing platforms, they were ideal.
Then, considering the possibility of multiple-snipers (which meant a conspiracy), I had to ask myself how I would position the shooters to cover the kill zone in front of the Grassy Knoll?
My military training once again took over. I would use an area within the Plaza that would afford the best kill zone for either a crossfire or triangulated fire. Simply put, I would position my teams in such a way that their trajectory of fire converged on the most advantageous point to assure a kill. In the military, single snipers are seldom used. Normally, the smallest sniper team consists of two men, a sniper and his spotter/security man. Even in police SWAT teams, a marksman has an observer who is equipped with a spotting scope or binoculars to help pick and identify targets and handle the radio communications.
In this case, I would position at least one team behind the Picket Fence (more if I wanted to secure the rear against intruders), another on one or both of the two office buildings (which I later found to be the Dallas County Records Building and the County Criminal Courts Building), and possibly a team on a building across the street north of the Records Building known at the time as the Dal-Tex building. I would have never put anyone in the School Book Depository with so many locations that were much more advantageous--unless I needed diversion. If I did, it would be a good place for red herrings to be observed by witnesses.”
“Haig served as a staff officer in the Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff for Operations (DCSOPS) at the Pentagon (1962–64), and then was appointed Military Assistant to Secretary of the Army Stephen Ailes in 1964. He then was appointed Military Assistant to Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, continuing in that service until the end of 1965.”
"11. While (Defense Intelligence Agency director) General Carroll probably wouldn't have appreciated knowing his conversations were being reported to the CIA, his own associates were engaged in a similar high level surveillance. In Jospeh Califano's recent autobiography, he points to a time in June 1963 when he and his superior, Army Secretary Cyrus Vance, 'secretly ran all' of 'the White House and Justice Department...communication lines through the Army war room [Haig knew]. Sitting there, Vance and I were able to listen to any conversation the President or Attorney General had...Because we assumed Robert Kennedy would have objected to our evesdropping, we never let him know."
Joseph A. Califano, Inside: A Public and Private Life (New York, Public Affaird, 2004, p. 109).
[BK Notes: I think this is a pretty revealing statement. How come the people in on and in some cases responsible for the "Contingency Plans for a Coup in Cuba" - Califano, Vance, Haig, Halpern, et al, are the same guys who Russo and Waldron quote as saying RFK was behind the plots to kill Castro that were used to kill JFK? And now we know the same guys were behind the Venezuelan Arms Cache - Northwoods Operation, run at the same time as Dealey Plaza.
And here, there's Vance and Califano admitting they privately bugged "the White House and Justice Dept. through the Army War Room," so they knew what the bros were really thinking and saying to each other. They also would be tipped off if the bros were suspicious of the plots against them.
I am leaning towards the idea that "the Congingency Plans for a Coup in Cuba" was actually the code for the coup against the Kennedys. -BK
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