During Roman times, the empire stretched from Britain to the Middle East, held together by fortified cities, sprawling forums, aqueducts, and military camps. Sites like Diocletian’s Palace in Split, the arena in Nîmes, the Roman theater in Cartagena, and the arches of Narbonne still stand, embedded in modern cities. These places weren’t isolated. They were part of a connected system. To move troops, goods, and information efficiently, Rome engineered long-distance roads, paved in stone and built to last across mountains, coasts, and frontiers. Many of these ancient routes, remarkably, still exist today: walkable, visible, and often hiding beneath our everyday paths.   1. Via Appia (Appian Way), Italy Via Appia, Rome, Italy. Source: Wikimedia Commons   Once dubbed the Regina Viarum, the Queen of Roads, the Via Appia is one of the oldest and most fascinating Roman roads still in existence. Built in 312 BC by Appius Claudius Caecus, it connected Rome to Brindisi, serving as a vital military and trade route for centuries. Today, it offers a journey not only through time but also through serene countryside and ancient ruins.   A walk or bike ride along the preserved stretch near Rome’s Porta San Sebastiano leads you past catacombs, aqueduct remains, and centuries-old tombs like the Cecilia Metella Mausoleum. The cobbled stones underfoot are original in parts, worn smooth by legionnaires, pilgrims, and merchants.   The Via Appia offers a rare chance to walk the same road that once carried emperors, armies, and philosophers. With wildflowers lining the path and cypress trees casting shade, it feels timeless.   2. Via Flaminia, Italy Via Flaminia, Italy. Source: Wikimedia Commons   Not all roads lead to Rome. Some lead you back in time. The Via Flaminia, carved into Italy’s landscape in 220 BC by the censor Gaius Flaminius, once carried Roman legions north to the Adriatic. Today, fragments of it survive like whispers beneath the modern world, threading through Umbria and Le Marche, past green hills and forgotten shrines.   Start near Rome’s Porta del Popolo, once the road’s grand entrance. Venture farther and you’ll find ancient tunnels carved into rock, bridges like Ponte di Augusto in Narni, and arches still holding centuries of silence. These aren’t tourist traps. They’re quiet places where the past hasn’t been cleaned up for show.   3. Via Aurelia, Italy Fountain of Via Aurelia Nuova, Italy. Source: Wikimedia Commons   The Via Aurelia was built around 241 BC to connect Rome with the coastal cities of Etruria, eventually reaching all the way to modern-day France. Originally constructed for military logistics, it later became vital for trade and civilian travel along the Tyrrhenian coast. Today, much of the ancient route is followed by the Strada Statale 1 (SS1), a major highway still in use.   Travelers can explore surviving Roman sections near Civitavecchia and Pisa, where original paving stones and engineering elements are visible. The Roman bridge of Vada and parts of ancient roadbeds offer glimpses into its construction. Unlike more preserved tourist routes like Via Appia, Via Aurelia has been overlaid by modern infrastructure, but its historical footprint remains important.   It’s ideal for those driving the coast who want quick detours into Roman history without straying far. Look for roadside ruins, preserved milestones, and Roman engineering integrated into small towns along the way.   4. Via Augusta, Spain Via Augusta, Old Path of Calafell, Vendrell, Spain. Source: Flickr   Ready to time travel without leaving the sunshine behind? Say hello to Via Augusta, the longest Roman road in Hispania, stretching over 930 miles from the Pyrenees to Cádiz. Built in the 1st century BC and named after Emperor Augustus, it followed the Mediterranean coast, linking key Roman cities like Tarraco (Tarragona), Valentia (Valencia), and Cartago Nova (Cartagena).   Today, bits of it still snake through modern Spain. You’ll spot Roman milestones, crumbling bridges, and sections of stone road hiding beside highways. Want to see it up close? Head to Tarragona, a UNESCO site, where you can walk real Roman pavement and imagine traders, soldiers, and dignitaries doing the same.   5. Stane Street, England Mill Lane section of Stane Street in Autumn, England. Source: Wikimedia Commons   Built by the Romans in the 1st century AD, Stane Street was a direct route from Londinium (London) to Noviomagus Reginorum (Chichester), about 57 miles as the legionary marched. Like most Roman roads, it didn’t care much for the terrain; it cut straight through hills, forests, and marshes with characteristic Roman stubbornness.   These days, it’s not a single clean stretch. You’ll find parts buried under A-roads, farm tracks, and footpaths. But many sections still exist, especially around Epsom, Dorking, and Pulborough. There’s no need for tickets or tours. Just good boots and a map.   It’s a walk through two thousand years of British soil, where old meets ordinary. You’ll pass by Roman tiles in hedgerows, Saxon churches built nearby, and modern fences bisecting something older than England itself.   6. Watling Street, England Radlett, The Oakway, Watling Street, England. Source: Wikimedia Commons   Watling Street was one of Roman Britain’s main roads, built over an existing Iron Age track. It connected Dover to London, then continued northwest through St. Albans, Towcester, and on to Wroxeter. Constructed in the 1st century AD, it was used for military movement, trade, and administration.   Today, much of the original route is covered by major roads, including the A2 and A5, still in daily use. You can identify some sections by Roman-era place names or visible straight-line alignments. A few isolated stretches remain in rural areas, walkable and marked by signage or interpretation boards.   Notable sites along Watling Street include the site of Boudica’s last battle, Roman Verulamium (St. Albans), and various Roman milestones. Though it’s fragmented and altered, the route’s influence remains strong in the layout of towns and the British road network.   7. Via Egnatia, Albania, North Macedonia, Greece, Turkey Via Egnatia, Philippi, Northeastern Greece. Source: Wikimedia Commons   The Via Egnatia was built in the 2nd century BC by the Romans to link the Adriatic coast with Byzantium (modern-day Istanbul). It ran over 1,100 kilometers through what is now Albania, North Macedonia, Greece, and Turkey, connecting important Roman colonies, military outposts, and trade hubs across the Balkans.   It started in Dyrrachium (Durres), passed through Lychnidos (Ohrid) and Thessalonica (Thessaloniki), and terminated at the Bosporus. It was the main east-west route of the Roman Empire in the Balkans and played a key role in military campaigns and commerce.   Today, stretches of the road still exist, some walkable, others buried under modern roads like Greece’s Egnatia Odos (A2) motorway. Notable remains include Roman bridges, paving stones near Philippi, and city gates in Thessaloniki.   8. Via Claudia Augusta, Italy, Austria, Germany Via Claudia Augusta in Forggensee, Germany. Source: Wikimedia Commons   Via Claudia Augusta was a Roman road completed in the 1st century AD, built to connect northern Italy with the Danube region. It stretched from Altinum (near Venice) and Hostilia (on the Po), crossed the Alps via the Reschen Pass, and ended in Donauwörth, Germany. Originally used for military supply and trade, it became a key north-south route through the Roman provinces.   Nowadays, it’s one of the best-preserved Roman roads for modern travelers. Much of the route has been reconstructed as a long-distance cycling and hiking path, complete with signage, rest points, and mapped detours for scenic and historical sites. It passes through Trentino, South Tyrol, Tyrol, and Bavaria, with visible Roman relics like bridges, milestones, and roadbed remnants.   If you want an accessible route with strong infrastructure, real Roman archaeology, and Alpine scenery, this one’s fully equipped for modern exploration.   9. Via Domitia, France Via Domitia, Narbonne, France. Source: Wikimedia Commons   Via Domitia was the first Roman road built in Gaul, laid out in 118 BC to connect Italy to Spain across what is now southern France. It ran from the Alps at Montgenèvre through Nîmes, Narbonne, and Perpignan, linking up with the Via Augusta near the Pyrenees. Its main purpose? Move troops, control territory, and facilitate trade across the province.   Parts of the road still exist today, some of the best-preserved can be found in Narbonne, where the original paving stones are visible in the town center, and in Ambrussum, where you’ll see an intact Roman bridge and sections of roadbed.   You won’t need a Time Machine. Just decent walking shoes. The route overlaps with modern hiking trails and passes Roman ruins, aqueducts, and amphitheaters.

  With privilege comes specific obligations, or so it would seem in the 1700 French royal court of Versailles. In order to reinforce the hierarchy and culture the French royal family had specific rules and pageantry attached to regular every day occurrences that Marie Antoinette had to learn to follow.   The Structure of the French Court Marie Antoinette’s Versailles quarters are reopening to the public, including the Gold Room. Photo: T. Garnier. Courtesy of Château de Versailles.   The establishment of a French royal court can be traced back to the early medieval period. As the monarchy grew stronger and condensed it became essential for governance. Members of the court included the monarchy, those with positions in the government, family, friends, and servants – although they were less involved in the structure and culture of the court. These gatherings of people who had wealth, power, and privilege evolved into strict codes of conduct where hierarchies and displays of culture became the norm.    King Louis XIV enjoyed the pomp and circumstance of his power, and his establishment of Versailles was bound by rules that would extend into Marie Antoniette’s life. For instance, his daily routine included the “Levee,” where nobles would witness his morning awakening, reinforcing his status in the hierarchy. He was also bound by the doctrines of Catholicism, which shaped many of the rules he would insist on being followed by his court.   Marie Antoinette’s Arrival in France Plan of the Queen’s garden and castle in Versailles. Source: Wikimedia Commons   Marie Antoinette was already coming into a country that considered her the enemy. While her marriage was arranged to create an alliance between Austria and France, the French did not care for the Austrians. She arrived in May 1770 to marry the Dauphin Louis XVI when she was only 14 years old.   As she was coming to France to one day become queen it was expected that she essentially “accept everything French.” She would have to adopt the French style of dress and of course the ladies who had attended her during the journey to France and the rest of her life would not be coming with her to France. She would be expected to have servants that were already at Versailles and make friends and alliances within the French court.   Seating Arrangements for Dining Lobby card for the American historical drama film Marie Antoinette, 1938. Source: Wikimedia Commons   Seating arrangements, like dinner functions today, held significance in French dining etiquette. Hosts often determined seating based on social status and potential for engaging conversations. The most respected guest was traditionally seated beside the host, encouraging lively dialogue. However, this was for a more formal style of dining. It would seem logical that even in the opulence of Versailles that dinner, especially just between the royal family would be far more subtle and relaxed. But dinner, even between the royals, still relied on performance and protocols.   Meals were made public for the view of any high-ranking person who was allowed to enter. Records suggests it made Marie Antoinette very uncomfortable. She would often only pick at her food and eat later in the privacy of her own quarters.   Court Dress and Presentation Archduchess Maria Antonia of Austria, by Martin van Meytens the Younger, 1767. Source: The Smithsonian Institute   While Louis XVI created morning and evening bed rituals which involved other members of the court, these rules of protocol extended to other members of the royal family including Marie Antoinette. In a letter to her mother, Maria Theresa of Austria and Hungary, Marie Antoinette explained the dressing ritual. “The Chamber is held, and there everyone who does not belong to the common people may enter. I put my rouge and wash my hands before all the world; the men go out, and the women remain; and then I dress myself in their presence.” After getting dressed, men and women would come and go visiting her while her hair was down.   Portrait of Marie Antoinette with her Children by Elisabeth-Louise Vigee-Lebrun, 1787. Source: Medium   It is well-known that Marie Antoinette was uncomfortable and felt an intense need for privacy in opposition of these rules. According one biography when she bathed, “bathers were admitted with all the accessories of a bath. The queen wrapped herself in a long robe of English flannel, buttoned to the bottom, and when she came out of the bath a sheet was held very high before her to screen her entirely from the view of her women.” Outside of this, the birth of her first child was attended by so many she ended up passing out from exhaustion and heat from overcrowding, revealing the extent of rules royalty were expected to go through on a day-to-day basis, even outside of official duties.

  Jealous, vengeful, cruel, foreign, and with a fondness for snakes, Olympias has often been portrayed as a malevolent figure. More than two thousand years after she lived and died, it is impossible to know what she was actually like, but the actions of the mother of Alexander the Great (356-323 BCE) were rarely without logic and context. Just as her son became the template for two centuries worth of successor monarchs, Olympias was the prototype of another common Hellenistic character: the powerful royal woman.   Olympias Before Olympias  Olympias Medallion, Roman, c. 3rd century CE. Source: Walters Art Museum   The person we know as Olympias originally went by other names. Polyxena and Myrtale are recorded as names she used before becoming Olympias upon her marriage to Phillip II of Macedon (382-336 BCE). She was born in 373 BCE, the daughter of Neoptolemus I, the ruler of Molossia in the north western Greek region of Epirus. Her family, the Aeacids, claimed descent from the mythical hero of the Trojan War Achilles. Though Molossia was a poor and remote Greek region, being a descendant of Achilles brought prestige and a sense of needing to live an appropriately heroic life, an ambition Olympias passed down to her son.   In the 4th century BCE, Molossia rarely featured in the calculations of the great powers such as Athens, Sparta, Thebes, and Persia. However, it was more familiar to its neighbor Macedon. Macedon and Molossia shared a tradition of monarchy and a location on the frontiers of the Greek world. It was this closeness to Macedon that transformed the Molossian princess into Olympias.   Bust of Philip II, Roman copy of Greek original. Source: Wikimedia Commons   Alexander’s later biographer, Plutarch, gives us a romantic view of the meeting of Olympias and Philip. While they were both being initiated into the mystery cult on the island of Samothrace in the northern Aegean, Philip, perhaps in his early to mid-twenties, caught sight of the teenage Molossian princess. He fell instantly in love and arranged the marriage. Skeptical modern scholars argue that such a royal marriage could only result from politics, not love. Molossia was a long way from Samothrace and the meeting could hardly have been by chance. Polyxena/Mrytale was likely around 18 when she married Philip in 357 BCE. She took the name Olympias shortly after, either as a commemoration of a Macedonian Olympic victory or in connection to a religious festival.   Olympias was not Philip’s only wife. The Macedonian monarchy practiced polygamy, with Olympias being the fourth of seven known marriages. This context is key to understanding much of what followed. As polygamous kings, the Macedonian Argead dynasty lacked a stable route of succession. Multiple wives meant multiple children and potential successors. There was no formal status division between the wives, and any of them could give birth to the next king. The mother of a king was guaranteed a life of status, while any potential rival heirs and their relatives ran the risk of being killed. Not yet twenty, Olympias was moving to a foreign country and entering a royal court and a high-stakes competition.   Wife of Philip and Mother of Alexander  Reconstruction of the face of Philip II. Source: Manchester Museum   Olympias and Philip were married for 20 years, and while we are ignorant of the details of their marriage, it was ultimately successful in its goals of tying together Molossia and Macedon and producing an heir.   Within a year of the marriage, Olympias gave birth to Alexander. A second child, Cleopatra, followed a year later. Cleopatra was the last of the couple’s children. A number of sources, including Justin and Plutarch, mention an estrangement. However, it should be noted that Olympias was Philip’s only wife known to have had more than one child. The stories of a distance between Philip and Olympias may be due to the events at the end of Philip’s reign and Alexander’s later claims to divine parentage. The later story that Philip recoiled from Olympias after seeing her sleeping next to a snake, an apparent sign of a divine visit, may well mix later propaganda about Alexander being the son of a god and traces of Olympias’ religious practices.   Olympias was frequently associated with snakes, adding an intimidating touch to her image for later historians and perhaps contemporaries. The snakes may have been part of religious practices she brought from Molossia, making Olympias seem not only intimidating but also foreign. On the other hand, snakes can also be viewed as guardians and may have been quite common in some parts of Macedon.   Coin depicting Olympias with a snake, Rome, c. 4-5th century CE. Source: British Museum   The birth of a potential male heir would have elevated Olympias, with her status growing as Alexander became recognised as a successor to Philip. The clearest example of Olympias’ prominence came following Philip’s decisive victory at the Battle of Chaeronea in 338 BCE. In the heart of the sacred precinct of Zeus at Olympia, Philip set up gold and ivory statues of himself, Alexander, and Olympia. No other wife of Philip ever came close to such a public honor, which verged on being elevated to divine status. However, Olympias and Alexander’s position was always precarious. In the final years of Philip’s reign there were signs that the relationship between the king, Olympias, and Alexander were fraught.   Philip already had another son, Arrhidaeus, though he was overlooked as he was seen to be incapacitated in some form. In 337 BCE, Philip married again. Cleopatra was the niece of a powerful Macedonian noble, Attalus, and with Philip only around 45 years old, there was a good chance the match would produce potential heirs. Despite the future danger, Alexander was comfortable enough to be at the wedding celebrations. But with the wine flowing, Attalus took the opportunity to imply that any future children from his niece would be more legitimate than Alexander. In the ensuing argument, Philip took Attalus’ side, and Alexander and Olympias went into self-imposed exile. The issue here was not Olympias’ jealousy of the younger wife but the real threat to Alexander’s future succession.   Olympias the Murderer?  Alexander and Olympias, by William Bayer, 1779. Source: Schonbrunn Palace   Olympias and Alexander were soon back in Macedon and, despite continued nervousness over any future potential heirs, were again shown public favor by Philip. In 336 BCE, it was decided that Olympias’ brother, Alexander of Epirus, would marry Philip and Olympias’ daughter Cleopatra. The wedding celebrations in the Macedonian city of Aigai would publicly reaffirm the ties between the Aeacids and Argeads.   In the midst of the festivities, Philip was assassinated. The assassin, Pausanias, was a former lover and bodyguard of Philip. He reportedly murdered the king because Philip had refused to punish Attalus for arranging for Pausanias to be brutally sexually assaulted.   Theater at Aigai. Source: UNESCO   Later historians saw the murder as Olympias’ revenge for marrying another woman. Scholars do not dismiss the possibility of Olympias’ involvement. The recent rift between Alexander and Philip had healed, but there was the long-term threat of children from a new wife. Olympias certainly did have Attalus’ daughter Cleopatra and her infant daughter murdered soon after. These were not the only deaths during Alexander’s succession.   There is no strong evidence linking Olympias, or Alexander, to Philip’s death and such a move would have been an extraordinary risk. However, there was a motive, and the relationship between the royal family had become tense. Pausanias’ grievance and the gathering of Philip, Alexander, the Macedonian nobility, and the army in one place for the wedding may have provided the opportunity. If Olympias, Alexander, or both did decide to move preemptively, assassination was a possible political tool available to them.   Rent for the Womb  Olympias presenting the young Alexander the Great to Aristotle, by Gerard Hoet, before 1733. Source: Wikimedia Commons   Throughout Philip’s reign, Olympias and Alexander demonstrated a strong bond and proved their loyalty to each other during the rifts with Philip. This bond continued once Alexander became king, elevating Olympias from a prominent wife to a powerful political figure.   Two years after the death of Philip, Alexander left to invade the Persian empire. Though Olympias would never see her son again, they remained in frequent contact. In his absence, Alexander left a prominent Macedonian, Antipater, in charge, but Olympias’ influence grew and spread beyond Macedon as we have evidence of her contacting several foreign states. The two quickly became rivals, which may well have been to Alexander’s liking. The respective roles of Antipater and Olympias were not clearly defined and having his mother keep a watchful eye on Antipater was to the king’s benefit. Olympias was often advising Alexander by distance as well as reporting on, and complaining about, Antipater. We have contradictory stories of Alexander’s attitude to his mother’s advice and reports. After reading one of Antipater’s letters criticizing Olympias, Alexander reportedly said that a single tear from his mother was enough to wipe out ten thousand such letters. However, there were tensions between the two. On another occasion, after receiving a long complaint from Olympias, Alexander uttered the famous remark that his mother was charging a high rent for his nine months in the womb.   Olympias was certainly a trusted advisor and loyal figure back home, but Alexander would have had to balance her wishes and advice against other considerations and priorities. In 331/30 BCE, when Antipater was at the height of his power and had defeated a Greek revolt, Olympias withdrew from Macedon and returned to Molossia.   After Alexander  Death of Alexander the Great, by Nicola de Laurentiis. Source: MutualArt   Olympias was in her 50s when her son died suddenly in Babylon in 323 BCE. In addition to the personal tragedy, she, along with everyone else in Alexander’s empire, was thrown into the chaotic new world.   Defending and promoting Alexander’s interests, and by extension her own, had guided Olympias’ political career for the last thirty years. The interests of Alexander’s son, born just after his father’s death, drew Olympias into the War of Successors in which Macedonian generals tore apart Alexander’s empire. In a world dominated by powerful and ruthless men, she played a role for several years.   After 323 BCE, the Macedonian Empire was nominally jointly ruled by Alexander’s son, Alexander IV, and Philip’s apparently incapable son Arrhidaeus, under the name Philip III. Few, however, could have rated Alexander IV’s chances of survival.   Just as with Philip’s death, rumors swirled, and continue to linger today, that Alexander was murdered. For Olympias, the culprit had to be Antipater, who was in the process of being summoned to Babylon by Alexander at the time of the king’s death. The productive rivalry of earlier years became a bitter feud between Olympias and the family of Antipater. When Antipater died in 319 BCE, he passed his control of Macedon, Greece, and the kings not to his son Cassander, but to the veteran officer named Polyperchon. Unfortunately, Polyperchon was not up to the task, whereas Cassander was ruthless and capable. Initially, Olympias refused Polyperchon’s invitations to return to Macedon and assist him. However, in 317 BCE a new danger arose.   Victory and the Death of Olympias  Cassander and Olympias, by Jean-Joseph Taillasson, 1799. Source: Wikimedia Commons   Arrhidaeus had been married to Adea Eurydice, the daughter of a half-sister of Alexander the Great. Adea was an Argead and had married another. As such, she and Arrhidaeus could be a threat to Alexander IV. When Adea made an alliance with Cassander, Olympias was forced into action. In 317 BCE, both Olympias and Adea put themselves at the head of their respective armies and marched to the border between Macedon and Molossia in what has been called the first war between women. Though Adea was descended from a line of warrior queens, her army refused to fight Olympias and defected. Both Adea and Arrhidaeus were captured and, after some delay, executed.   The idea that Olympias was a vicious woman meddling in politics comes up again. In her march into Macedon, she was indeed ruthless. Adea and Arrhidaeus were not the only victims; a brother of Cassander and dozens of his supporters were killed. However, her actions do not seem to have been exceptional. Blood was often spilled during Macedonian dynastic conflicts, and none of the figures in the war of successors emerged guiltless.   Having marched into Macedon, defeated a rival, and protected Alexander IV, Olympias had become a major player in the battle to control the Macedonian Empire. Her fall from this height was swift. Cassander reacted with devastating speed and effectiveness to her success. By early 316 BCE, he and his army were back in Macedon besieging Olympias in Pydna. Polyperchon proved unable to do anything, and Cassander blocked aid from arriving from other allies. The negative tradition in the sources state that Olympias lost support due to her bloody actions on entering Macedon, but it seems that she retained support and that Cassander was simply more militarily effective. Olympias’ defeat was military rather than political.   Coin issued by Cassander with Hercules (obverse) and lion (reverse) Greek, 317-306 BCE. Source: British Museum   In the end, Olympias had no choice but to surrender to Cassander. Despite her alleged unpopularity, Cassander had trouble arranging her death. Olympias was tried and found guilty, but only the relatives of the people she had killed were willing to carry out the sentence. Once Cassander finally found willing executioners, Olympias was said to have met her end with dignity and courage. The bid to protect Alexander IV ultimately failed. Cassander had him and his mother Roxane murdered before he reached adulthood. The Argead house died out as Alexander’s generals gradually declared themselves kings.   Throughout her life, Olympias’ actions were guided not by emotion but by the political calculations necessary to survive and thrive in a brutal royal court. Since she could not hold formal power as a woman, her politics were orientated around the prospects and protection of her son and grandson.   Bibliography   Carney, E. (2006) Olympias: Mother of Alexander the Great. Routledge: New York.   Rowson, A. (2022) The Young Alexander: The Making of Alexander the Great. Williams Collins: London.   Jouanno, C. (1995) “Alexandre et Olympias: de l’histoire au mythe” Bulletin de l’Association Guillaume Budé, 1995.3 pp. 211-230.   Ogden, D. (1999) Polygamy, Prostitutes and Death: The Hellenistic Dynasties. Classical Press of Wales: London.

Mystery masked metallers President take a big leaf out of Sleep Token's book and draw a packed-out crowd at Download

Armed with battle axes, broadswords, and a triple-guitar assault that carved their name into Southern rock mythology, Molly Hatchet emerged from the swamps of Jacksonville in the early 1970s, rising from the ashes of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s tragic plane crash to claim the blood-stained throne of hard-driving rebel music. Founded by guitarist Dave Hlubek in 1971, the band took its menacing name from a legendary prostitute who allegedly dispatched her clients with an axe—a fitting moniker for a group whose Frank Frazetta-adorned album covers depicted barbaric fantasy scenes that perfectly matched their take-no-prisoners approach to Southern-fried rock and roll. The band’s The post Complete List Of Molly Hatchet Band Members appeared first on ClassicRockHistory.com.

It’s a well-known (and somewhat awkward) fact that Homo sapiens and Neanderthals interbred. While previous research has explored when these encounters took place, findings have revealed where exactly it happened.

Secretary of the Army Dan Driscoll recently made a surprising statement during an interview on Fox News. Even though no human has walked on the Moon since the Apollo missions ended in the 1970s, one of the highest-ranking military officials in the United States made a strange claim this week about having a presence on the lunar surface. He mentioned this during a live news interview. While speaking to Brian Kilmeade on Fox News on Wednesday, Dan Driscoll—the Secretary of the Army—suddenly brought up a soldier astronaut on the Moon. He was discussing events related to the Army’s 250th anniversary when he made this unexpected comment. “The Army started planning this [anniversary parade] long in advance because what we believe is this will continue the strength in recruiting and retention that we have as young Americans across the country get to see all of the amazing things that the Army has done,” he said. “Whether it’s helping with floods in North Carolina or wildfires in California or we talked to an astronaut yesterday who’s on the moon who’s a soldier, including actually going to war and fighting to defend the freedoms that are, uh, that make our nation so great.” “Right. The Army can celebrate the Army. That’s what it’s about,” Kilmeade replied, without noticing the Moon comment or asking Driscoll to explain further. So what did Driscoll really mean by this? Some people think this could be proof that the U.S. has been secretly sending astronauts to the Moon for years without publicly acknowledging it. And this information slipped. Supporters of this theory argue that the government may have advanced space programs hidden from the public, allowing military personnel to conduct missions on the Moon. Or it was simply a mistake and that Driscoll might have been talking about astronauts on the International Space Station (ISS) instead. If so, are there any soldiers there? At this time, there have been no official statements clarifying his remark. You can watch the interview clip below—the comment happens just after the 4-minute mark. The post Conspiracy or Mistake? Top Military Official Mentions ‘Soldier on the Moon’ appeared first on Anomalien.com.