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Sergeant Kim Munley on Nidal Hasan's verdict

Sergeant Kim Munley is joining Sean today to discuss Nidal Hasan's verdict, how President Obama betrayed the victims of Fort Hood, and what is being done to officially classify Hasan as what all of America (aside from the Obama Administration) knows he truly is, a terrorist.

Munley was the Fort Hood police officer who came to the defense of those attacked at the military base and engaged in a shoot out with Hasan. She was shot three times by the traitor.

PHOTOS: Sergeant Munley meets Barack and Michelle Obama

Below is Kim's account of the day she testified at Hasan's trial.

For more info on the Fort Hood victims, visit http://truthaboutforthood.com/

August 16, 2013, Fort Hood | Summary by Kim Munley

It was around 8:10 A.M.; a military CID agent came and picked my husband and me up from the undisclosed location where we were staying, to transport us on post to testify against the monster that had changed not only my life, but the hundreds of others at Fort Hood Texas on November 5th, 2009.

This would be the third time I would lay eyes on him, the monster known as Nidal Hasan. The first time was while I was staring down the barrel of his gun, the second was during his arraignment hearing. And now this time, to help end the fiasco of his “day in court”, that has gone on for nearly four years.

We arrived at the courthouse around 8:35 A.M., and we were escorted to the witness standby room directly across the hall of where the trial against this killer was taking place. Our early arrival would prevent media personnel from seeing me and/or barraging me with questions, prior to my being called to the stand to testify.

We were informed that an agent with the FBI would be the first witness to testify on that morning, and then I would be called to testify after her. So there we sat, for three hours in a 6 foot by 10 foot room, with mints, water, and a variety of “stress toys” and objects to occupy and distract us if nervousness set in during the wait. My husband made much use of the stress toys, but acted like a caged animal while we waited. He seemed to be much more anxious than I was and mentioned that the suspense was “killing him”. The FBI agent’s testimony took much longer than we expected and it included a 15 minute break before it finally wrapped up. Then, around 1130 A.M., they came in to get us.

I wasn’t nervous; my heart rate was at a normal beat. Then, I took a deep breath and in the courtroom I walked.

The courtroom was set up in the typical way of any other courtroom. As soon as I crossed the threshold of the gallery and into the arena of the court itself, I glared left at “him”. I would continue my glare, until I was in a position even with him in his location, then I had to take a 90 degree turn right, and then turn left, to walk up a ramp, then two stairs to my chair. I sat, and I waited.

It seemed like 5 minutes had ticked off the clock before the prosecution recognized me and opened with their first question. All this while, I kept glancing over to Hasan, seeing him waiting as he sat in his wheelchair with military ACUs on, having a long, ugly dark beard mixed with grey (A-typical of a male of the muslim faith). Atrophy had surely gotten the best of him as he looked like a shell of the monster that had tried to kill me on that horrific day; he was a skeleton in a uniform, which made him less significant to me and strengthened my resolve to get down to business.

“State your name”, the prosecution asked. I answered. “State your current residence”. I paused with a puzzled look on my face not wanting to answer. I said “Kure Beach, North Carolina”. “Please state your position on November 5, 2009”, the prosecution requested. I answered, “I was a Sergeant with the Fort Hood Police Department”.

(These are typical questions are in the opening statements of a witness, with the exception of letting everyone in the world knowing my “current address”, this is a TERRORIST after all…I’m sorry. Excuse me, I misspoke…um, a disgruntled co-worker, not terrorist…not yet anyway.)

Questioning Continued:

“Please tell us what you were doing at the time that you got the call of the shooting”. I then explained that I was washing my patrol car at the Transportation Motor Pool when I received a radio call of shots fired. The prosecution then asked the judge to enter into evidence, the dash camera video from my patrol car. The judge accepted then asked Hasan, “Do you have any objections Major Hasan?” He answered, “I have no objections, your honor”. There it was…his voice….which others have described to me as soft spoken and I thought to myself…”He’s not soft spoken”. His voice seemed strong, determined, and confident. At this point, I immediately glared at him and did not want to take my eyes off of him, my mind said “contact” and I did not want to take my eyes off of him because when he spoke, my instincts still saw him as a threat instead of the bag of bones that I looked down on earlier. It took over a minute to get the video to begin, and the whole time, I kept staring at him. He had a computer monitor in front of him, as did I. There was a big screen behind me that would also display the video and I wasn’t sure which one he would start to look at. I continued to stare at him until he finally locked eyes with me and in a flash, he looked away….I had won. In my heart, I had won the battle in that courtroom in just under a minute of me on the witness stand. I was not going to allow him to intimidate me, he would not see any fear in my eyes, and he would not hear anything less than full confidence in my voice.

The video began to play. It lasted four minutes and forty-six seconds. While it played, I continued to glance over to him and then back to the monitor in front of me and then back to him. He sat there stroking his smoke colored wiry looking beard and watched the video, every so often, glancing up at me then immediately he would look away when he saw I was turning to look at him. At this moment I felt empowered. I felt I was in control of him. Him being a medical doctor of psychiatry, I was even more determined to beat him even with all his years of the study of the human mind. If I knew one thing, it was that he wasn’t going to be studying mine. On that day almost four years ago, his eyes never saw me retreat and I was damned if he would see me retreat today. In his muslim world, women are often possessions, they have no status, and they have no say in anything and are mostly covered in clothing with the exception of their eyes. I on the other hand, wore a blouse that purposely did not cover my arms. On them, the many inked tattoos I have with each having a meaning…ink, another “against the rules” of the muslim faith.

I wondered how weak he must feel to know of a woman in power, covered in tattoos, put two bullets in him before being paralyzed from yet another bullet fired by my partner that put Hasan in the wheelchair that his disgusting ass must be planted in every waking moment of his miserable days left on this earth. He had stated in his “sanity board” that he regrets being paralyzed; he said that he knew he would either be killed or put in jail that day. But did he ever think that he would have to put a suppository up his ass and stimulate it with his finger in order to defecate daily? The sweet irony helped, that I knew that it was me that helped put Hasan in such a “shitty” position.

After the video ended, the prosecution then asked me to describe what happened from the time I exited my patrol car until the incident was over. I explained that I ran up an incline to the northwest corner of one of the five buildings of the shooting site and saw a man in ACUs with a gun, firing towards me. Simultaneously, I heard SGT Todd yell “drop your weapon, drop your weapon!” I pulled the hammer back on my pistol in order to get a more accurate shot at him because there were several soldiers running both behind and between us. Then suddenly, he ducked behind the opposite side of the building.

I then explained that because of my training on the SWAT team, I was always taught not to “chase the rabbit”. It was a technique surely to put you in the middle of an unpredictable position if coming blindly around a corner. I immediately decided to flank him, running to the opposite corner of my current position, in hopes to head him off.

I dove into a prone position, and while I was lying down on my stomach, using the corner of the brick building as cover, I peered around the corner and there Hasan was, firing at other unarmed soldiers running out of the building where he began his killing rampage, and then he began firing at soldiers behind me. I began to engage him with my pistol at a distance of about 45 feet away. I fired maybe six shots but he didn’t seem to be affected by the rounds that I fired.

It wasn’t until later after reading his sanity board papers; I learned that I had hit him twice at that distance; however he continued to advance his assault towards me, firing rapidly. I remembered that there was a rain gutter on that corner of the building and he hit it so many times, that the metal fragments were spraying the shrapnel into my face.

Then suddenly, Hasan had shot a round into my hand. I ducked around the corner and took cover to avoid him shooting me in my head, which had been directly behind my weapon. When I peeked back around, he was within a mere few feet of me. I quickly stood up and took a step back, and then suddenly, he came into full view from around the corner, firing at the same time. I returned fire. I was standing in a bladed position and suddenly, without any reason I knew of, I hit the ground hard. He had shot me in my knee, shattering it. It was a through and through gunshot wound that traveled into my opposite leg as well.

Then as I hit the ground, I looked up, aimed and tried to fire, but my pistol had a serious malfunction. I remember pulling the trigger three or four times, but my weapon was not firing, nothing was coming out. Then, I noticed him and as I looked up at him, he was standing directly above me. At this moment I was staring right down the end of the barrel of his gun. Hasan then kicked my gun out of my hand. Then, as Hasan stood over top staring down at me, aiming at my head, he pulled the trigger, but his gun didn’t fire. Instantly I thought he was out of ammunition, that he had fired his weapon dry. But then, as he performed a malfunction pistol clearing drill, he extracted and ejected a live round out of his chamber. (A live round that didn’t discharge and allowed me to live today). He then apparently tried to pick up my weapon, perhaps in an attempt to finish me off with my own gun. But kicked it away when he realized his hand had been paralyzed and he stumbled off.

I thought to myself, “I cannot let him continue to shoot anyone else; I have to get my pistol, fix it, and shoot him some more”. I began to drag my body to my pistol and that’s when I heard Sergeant Todd yell challenges to Hasan, “drop your weapon, drop your weapon”. Hasan turned and fired at Sgt. Todd, but Todd returned fire and dropped Hasan where he stood.

It was over. One minute and forty-six seconds after getting out of my patrol car, the fire fight was over. I scooted my body against the building wall and attempted to put as much pressure on the wound that I could, or it would possibly be the end of my life. One of his shots had hit my femoral artery and the black blood was shooting out of my leg like a water-main break. I couldn’t stop it.

Without my added thoughts, this is how I testified in the trial on Friday. The prosecution paused during my testimony to enter the bullets that were extracted from my other leg, into evidence. Again the judge asked Hasan if he objected. He answered again, “I have no objections, your honor”. There were pauses for the introduction of evidence of the bullets and of the aerial photograph of the five buildings in the vicinity where the shootings and killings took place.

Each time there was a pause, I glared at him, he would glare back, but after his quick glare he would look away. I wondered what he was thinking. If only I could hear his thoughts. Was he happy to hear me testifying to the jury of the horrible events that happened to me? Was he sympathetic towards me because he had only wanted to shoot and kill those in military uniforms, or was he angry as he sat there knowing I was part of the reason that put him in the condition that he was in. I’ll probably never know. But each time I looked at him, the coward that he is, he lost the staring contest. I challenged him each and every time within the twenty-one minutes I sat on the stand.

Throughout my testimony, I used a metal stylus to draw numbers of the aerial diagram on the computer monitor to depict the positions that I saw Hasan in, and the positions that Sgt. Todd and I were in during the course of the assault. The prosecution then asked, “If you were to see the shooter again, would you be able to identify him?” I replied, “Absolutely”. Prosecutor Colonel Hendricks asked, “Is the shooter sitting in the courtroom right now?” I said, “Yes”. He asked again, “Can you identify the shooter please?” With the metal stylus in my right hand, I extended my arm out straight as if I was pointing a weapon, and I pointed straight at Hasan. Hasan stopped stroking his beard and looked me dead in my eyes and then he quickly looked away. That was the one moment that felt so awesome for me. I didn’t have to say a word, I just pointed at him secretly wishing, that my stylus was my weapon and I briefly saw a look of what I thought to be pure fear in Hasan’s eyes.

When the prosecution stated they had no further questions for me, the Judge asked, “Major Hasan, do you have any questions for the witness?” He replied, “I have no questions for Sgt. Munley.” The Judge then excused me; I stood up and walked towards the jury box, smirked, then turned and walked out of the courtroom, back into the witness standby room. At the same time, a Captain, one of the Government’s Prosecution team members who I had met several times before, and she then followed me in the witness standby room, she smiled from ear to ear, and then she and another lady I was familiar with gasped, “You did SOOOO GOOD! You were unbelievable in there!!! We are so proud of you!” She gave me a Department of Justice Challenge Coin and congratulated me and they both gave me many hugs.

It was over. In just twenty-one minutes, the last three years and nine months of anxiously awaiting for this day to end, and now, it was over. I suddenly felt a wave a great relief. I had resisted many times to return to Fort Hood to testify because of all the “yo-yoing” the government had done to all of us for these many years. But in that brief few minutes of staring at that pathetic looking Hasan, the sad excuse of a human being that he is, staring him in the face suddenly became worth the trip, the struggle, and the years of anxiety. I was able to feel the strongest I had in years. I felt an overwhelming emotion of power that was gained from squaring off with the man for the second time who tried to kill me. This time, there was a bit of a reversal of roles as I stared down on him, the same as he did the day he changed my life forever.

Such a bitter-sweet victory, but this victory is mine!







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