This is the day agriterrorism officially hit America.
The only question remains, not who, but whether there is a link to a foreign government such as Russia as described by Soviet intelligence defector, Viktor Suvorov’s, in his book entitled “Spetsnaz. The Story Behind the Soviet SAS” in chapter 15 where he discusses “Spetsnaz First World War”. Before war breaks out, random events such as this are supposed to take place. The random oil spill immediately reminds us about what happened in California just last week or even the military-style raid on a California power station.”
The issue was also raised in a previous post also entitled “Spetsnaz First World War” with the following excerpts:
“A serious accident takes place on the most important oil pipeline in Alaska. The pumping stations break down and the flow of oil falls to a trickle.“
“In the United States an epidemic of some unidentified disease breaks out and spreads rapidly. It seems to affect port areas particularly, such as San Francisco, Boston, Charleston, Seattle, Norfolk and Philadelphia.”
“All these operations — because of course none of these events is an accident — and others like them are known officially in the GRU as the ‘preparatory period’, and unofficially as the ‘overture’.”
Ask yourself: Was this really some random act by a disgruntled competitor or America under attack in the ‘overture’ phase?
It would be nice to be wrong about all this, but one cannot dismiss the fact that America is growing unsafer by the day which warrants keeping an open mind during highly deceitful times.
Somebody turned the fans off on 300,000 chickens to suffocate them—somebody who knows exactly how the industry works
The chicken farm on Brewer Road, just south of the small town of Manning in South Carolina, is hidden away down a series of winding country highways, between a patch of forest and an empty farm field. On the morning of Feb. 17 the farm’s owner, a Vietnamese immigrant named Hoangson Nguyen, was awakened by a frantic phone call. Nguyen, who goes by “Sonny,” raises birds under contract for Pilgrim’s Pride, the nation’s second-largest poultry company. An employee who checks the chicken houses each morning was shouting over the phone. Something was terribly wrong.
Nguyen sped to the farm. That morning, when the farmhand opened the door to the first building, a sophisticated warehouse designed to hold about 20,000 birds, a column of steam had billowed out. Nguyen went into the control room and saw that the temperature inside was 122F. He entered the cavernous building. It was like a sauna: The giant circular fans used to cool the chicken house had been switched off. A set of electronic alarms had also been disabled. There were thousands of dead chickens on the ground, pressed up against the walls as if they’d tried to escape. They’d been smothered to death overnight in the intense heat. Nguyen knew immediately that this wasn’t an accident. Someone had killed his flock.
Nguyen is a typical chicken farmer: He owes the bank about $2 million for his farm, and he doesn’t have enough money for health insurance. He lives paycheck-to-paycheck, or “flock-to-flock,” as they say in the business. The moment he saw the dead birds, Nguyen knew he wouldn’t make any money this year. Whoever had killed these birds might very well have killed his farm. “I fell down right in front of the door,” he says. “I almost passed out.”
Nguyen’s farm wasn’t the only one hit that night. Three others also had their control systems sabotaged, killing the birds inside. Over the next week about 320,000 chickens died in attacks on farms throughout Clarendon County, in what appears to be the largest crime against industrial poultry farms in U.S. history. All the birds were owned by Pilgrim’s, which pays Nguyen and other farmers to raise the animals.
The dead birds were worth about $1.7 million to Pilgrim’s, but it was the farmers who suffered the most financially from the attacks. Each lost about $10,000 for every house of chickens killed. For people living flock-to-flock, it was a potentially ruinous blow, and one that can be understood only within the peculiar and brutal economics of chicken farming. Companies such as Pilgrim’s force contract farmers to compete against one another for their pay. One farmer’s bonus is taken directly from his neighbor’s paycheck.
To police, this detail suggested a possible motive. Based on the highly precise manner in which the farms had been targeted and their poultry slaughtered, investigators quickly concluded that whoever was behind the attacks was intimately familiar with chicken farming. Within days of the midnight massacre, it became clear Nguyen and the others had been victimized by one of their own—a fellow farmer who’d come to see his neighbors, and their flocks, as the enemy.
Sheriff Randy Garrett is the top lawman in Clarendon County. Garrett is more than 6 feet tall, with wide shoulders and piercing blue eyes. He uses a cane—he’s recovering from a recent car accident—but even with a pronounced limp he fills the room with his imposing presence when he walks in. In June he’s celebrating his 41st year on the force.
On Feb. 17, as Garrett’s deputies fielded calls from farmers who woke up to find their flocks had been killed, they learned that the attacker used different methods of slaughter. Full-grown birds like those on Nguyen’s farm were cooked to death. In farms that had baby chicks, which need high temperatures to simulate a brooding nest, the saboteur cut the heat. The chicks froze to death, piling up in a futile effort to stay warm and smothering those at the bottom of the heap.
Then there were the alarms. Chicken houses are equipped with a variety of systems to alert farmers when machinery malfunctions; things can go wrong quickly when a house is crowded with 20,000 or 30,000 birds. Whoever disabled the alarms understood the farmers’ different systems, so no one was notified.
On the night of Feb. 20, two more farms were attacked. On one, the attacker tampered with controls at four chicken houses and killed all the birds inside, about $320,000 worth of poultry. The next night, another farm was attacked, this time with two houses sabotaged. A week after the first attacks, Garrett didn’t appear any closer to making an arrest, and farmers grew nervous. The sheriff posted armed deputies at Pilgrim’s farms at night. Farmers carried guns when they went through the houses. “If I caught somebody here on my farm, I would have shot first and asked questions later,” says Pilgrim’s Pride farmer Raymond Wells. He had trouble sleeping at night, knowing that his chicken houses were vulnerable. Wells always keeps a pistol in his glove compartment, but during the attacks he also stowed a Ruger Mini-14 semiautomatic rifle in his truck.
Full article: Who’s Murdering Thousands of Chickens in South Carolina? (BloombergBusiness)