Bad Ass of the Week

[Vitandus]

"Sadly, not long into the mission, Willy the Lumberjack was cheap-shotted and killed by a German machine gun.  This set off one of the most epic blood rages ever recorded.  Leo Major completely flipped his shit, strapped three machine guns onto his back, grabbed a huge sack of hand grenades, and charged into the quiet town with his guns and weapons blazing.  Leo ran around like a berserker madman, creating such a clusterfuck of explosions, fires, and dead bodies that the German garrison was convinced that they were fighting a vastly superior force.  During his mad rampage of Nazi destruction, this one-eyed juggernaut kicked in the door of an SS officer's club, kiled four high-ranking enemy commanders in a firefight, and then went and ran out and burned down the local headquarters of the Gestapo.  By the time the sun rose on Zwolle the next morning, the entire German garrison had evacuated and the town was returned to Dutch control."

Whoa. http://www.badassoftheweek.com/leomajor.html

[Ian]

I see your Nazi slayer and raise you a one armed Jap-killing machine (incoming wall of text)

"Two hundred Japanese soldiers attacked the trench Lachhiman Garung was defending and, for their opening act, tossed in a few grenades. Seeing the grenades rolling in, one by one, Lachhiman had the bright idea of throwing them back before they exploded--an incredible idea provided you have three hands to throw with.

Garung, unfortunately, only had two hands, so that third grenade did what grenades do in those situations and exploded while he was holding it. His fingers were obliterated, his arm peeled like a banana, and his right leg, face and body in general were all badly injured.

The two soldiers with him at the time were also hit and killed. Lachhiman was alone, one armed and bleeding profusely, and there were still 200 Japanese out there, getting ready to resume the attack. Awkward!

Realizing he wasn't quite dead yet, Lachhiman drew his gurkha knife and stuck it in the ground in front of him. "No one will pass here today!" he called out before loading his rifle. The enemy soldiers approached, and Lachhiman calmly dealt with the majority of oncoming enemies at point blank range, just waiting for them to arrive.

He did this for four fucking hours. With only his left arm.

Attack after attack was mounted by the Japanese in an attempt to advance, but none were successful. How Lacchiman managed to endure and survive his wounds is anyone's guess, but by the end of the day, when someone finally came to check and see how he was doing, 31 Japanese soldiers lay dead in front of his trench. He is said to have complained then about the flies bothering his stump. That's right. Flies. Not the fact that he had a brand new stump. Flies."

http://www.cracked.com/article_18429_6-soldiers-who-survived-shit-that-would-kill-terminator.html

[Latos]

I got two for you folks.

Last Words Of: Giles Corey, farmer and accused witch, while being crushed with stones

According to colonial law, a person who refused to plead innocent or guilty of a crime could not be tried. This was particularly vexing to the courts when they had people accused of witchcraft, since they weren't going to torch themselves.

Their remedy for this was "peine forte et dure", the process where the accused was slowly compacted by rocks until a plea was entered. "Tough love" was pretty new back then and clearly had some refining left. Giles Corey, knowing he wouldn't be afforded a fair trial, challenged every plea request with the above "More weight," as in, "add more stones." He did this literally down to his last breath.

No matter how enormous the rocks they stacked on Giles, it's evident he was carrying the largest stones in the room before he even walked in.

Secondly, my favorite perhaps:

The legends recounting the death of Rasputin are perhaps even more bizarre than his strange life. According to Greg King's 1996 book The Man Who Killed Rasputin, a previous attempt on Rasputin's life had been made and had failed: Rasputin was visiting his wife and children in his hometown, Pokrovskoye, along the Tura River, in Siberia. On June 29, 1914, he had either just received a telegram or was just exiting church, when he was attacked suddenly by Khionia Guseva, a former prostitute who had become a disciple of the monk Iliodor, once a friend of Rasputin's but now absolutely disgusted with his behaviour and disrespectful talk about the royal family. Iliodor had appealed to women who had been harmed by Rasputin, and together they formed a survivors' support group.

Guseva thrust a knife into Rasputin's abdomen, and his entrails hung out of what seemed like a mortal wound. Convinced of her success, Guseva supposedly screamed, "I have killed the antichrist!"

After intensive surgery, however, Rasputin recovered. It was said of his survival that "the soul of this cursed muzhik was sewn on his body." His daughter, Maria, pointed out in her memoirs that he was never the same man after that: he seemed to tire more easily and frequently took opium for pain.




The murder of Rasputin has become legend, some of it invented by the very men who killed him, which is why it becomes difficult to discern exactly what happened. It is, however, generally agreed that, on December 16, 1916, having decided that Rasputin's influence over the Tsaritsa had made him a far-too-dangerous threat to the empire, a group of nobles, led by Prince Felix Yusupov and the Grand Duke Dmitri Pavlovich (one of the few Romanov family members to escape the annihilation of the family during the Red Terror), apparently lured Rasputin to the Yusupovs' Moika Palace, where they served him cakes and red wine laced with a massive amount of cyanide. According to legend, Rasputin was unaffected, although Vasily Maklakov had supplied enough poison to kill five men. Conversely, Maria's account asserts that, if her father did eat or drink poison, it was not in the cakes or wine, because, after the attack by Guseva, he had hyperacidity, and avoided anything with sugar. In fact, she expressed doubt that he was poisoned at all.
Determined to finish the job, Yusupov became anxious about the possibility that Rasputin might live until the morning, which would leave the conspirators with no time to conceal his body. Yusupov ran upstairs to consult the others and then came back down to shoot Rasputin through the back with a revolver. Rasputin fell, and the company left the palace for a while. Yusupov, who had left without a coat, decided to return to grab one, and, while at the palace, he went to check up on the body. Suddenly, Rasputin opened his eyes and lunged at Prince Yusupov. When he grabbed Prince Yusupov he ominously whispered in Yusupovs ear "you bad boy" and attempted to strangle him. As he made his bid to kill Yusupov, however, the other conspirators arrived and fired at him. After being hit three times in the back, Rasputin fell once more. As they neared his body, the party found that, remarkably, he was still alive, struggling to get up. They clubbed him into submission and, after wrapping his body in a sheet, threw him into an icy river, and he finally met his end there — as had both his siblings before him.

Three days later, the body of Rasputin, poisoned, shot four times and badly beaten, was recovered from the Neva River. An autopsy established that the cause of death was hypothermia. His arms were found in an upright position, as if he had tried to claw his way out from under the ice. In the autopsy, it was found that he had indeed been poisoned, and that the poison alone should have been enough to kill him. Yet another report, also supporting the idea that he was still alive after submerging through the ice into the Neva River, is that after his body was pulled from the river, water was found in the lungs, showing that he didn't die until he was submerged.

[Capuloclavo]

I'll submit this story;  not necessarily bad-ass, or hard to kill...

In the viking age, the Orkney and Shetland islands were being fought over by Sigurd, cousin of the King of Norway and the local Celtic/Scottish Lords. Caithness was held by Malbrich Fiaclann (which translates as Melbridge the Tooth) - Known because he was an ugly bastard with one front tooth that stuck straight out.  One legend states that both Sigurd and Malbrich separately sought advice from the same wise old crone, who was known for predicting the future.  The crone told Malbrich "You will personally cause Sigurd's death".  She told Sigurd "You will win the battle against Malbrich".
Long story short- Sigurd kills Malbrich and wins the battle, but on the way home, he decides to take Malbrich's head as a trophy.  Tying it to his belt by Malbrich's long hair, the head keeps bouncing into his leg, and the tooth cuts into Sigurd's shin.  The wound becomes infected and kills Sigurd.

Sorry for the wall of text.

[Latos]

"In the viking age, the Orkney and Shetland islands were being fought over by Sigurd, cousin of the King of Norway and the local Celtic/Scottish Lords. Caithness was held by Malbrich Fiaclann (which translates as Melbridge the Tooth) - Known because he was an ugly bastard with one front tooth that stuck straight out.  One legend states that both Sigurd and Malbrich separately sought advice from the same wise old crone, who was known for predicting the future.  The crone told Malbrich "You will personally cause Sigurd's death".  She told Sigurd "You will win the battle against Malbrich".
Long story short- Sigurd kills Malbrich and wins the battle, but on the way home, he decides to take Malbrich's head as a trophy.  Tying it to his belt by Malbrich's long hair, the head keeps bouncing into his leg, and the tooth cuts into Sigurd's shin.  The wound becomes infected and kills Sigurd."

A little extra info: Sigurd traveled all the way back to his town, where we died about 100 yards from the common square. They found him sitting on the steps leading into town.

[Capuloclavo]

A little extra info: Sigurd traveled all the way back to his town, where we died about 100 yards from the common square. They found him sitting on the steps leading into town.

Hadn't heard this.   I think the source I'm remembering is from the Heimskringla.  Could be confusing this with the prelude to the Battle of Clontarf.  There's a name for your Shammy Pat!  Boru, as in Brian Boru.