For those of you that might still care.
I'm still alive and kicking although nothing turned out like I'd hoped, but what ever really does.
I'm still alive and kicking although nothing turned out like I'd hoped, but what ever really does.
12.31.2006
10.15.2004
out of the blue i get random emails...but isn't that how it always works...because if you expected them they wouldn't be so random...
a few days ago i received one of these emails from a person who has meant a lot to me in the last few years...a guy i came to know deeply...who put things in a profound sense and helped me understand so much...he was actually the reason i started this blog so long ago...but he didn't know that until i told him last night...
we had dinner in georgetown after i got off of work...(i'm working for one of the two major satellite radio companies now and it is an amazing thing to love your job)...there wasn't much of drive to meet him...the hotel that the guardian put him up in was very easy to find and the people at the front desk were helpful...even if he didn't give me his real name only a room number...face to face anonymity is a strange thing...
i sat waiting by the elevator for someone i've never met in person but whom i knew i would know once i saw...watching each door open with luggage totting visitors shuffle in and out...three separate doors all working in some strange 3 card monty...distracting my attention until a man whom i've known for over a year and half...who shared the difficulties of life with me...who helped to open up my eyes to the bigger picture...who i once read resembled a cherub stepped out of the elevator directly in front of me and also knew me instantly...the world is a strange place...
he was what i expected and yet he was more...
it felt as though we were catching up on old times that were shared even if neither of us could really understand the others experience...
we went to my truck to stick a parking pass on the rear view mirror and to my surprise he climbed up into the passenger seat...so i got in too because he must've wanted to go someplace...
as we drove down the cramped streets of georgetown we talked about the last year and where things have ended up...we talked about the cryptic hand signals used by american soldiers at iraqi check points...we talked about house music and military cultural awareness training...we talked about riverbend...we realized that we had no idea where we were going so we parked my massive F150 and set out on foot...
i found out that he is here as a reporter for the guardian...he's been lined up with amazing interviews that scare him...although i think he will do just fine because he is excellent in the fine art of conversation...he is aware of the many sides of such a difficult time...
he had questions for me...things he hasn't had the chance to ask a former soldier...he needed clarifications and explanations...i watched his eyes go big at some of my answers...i smiled at his amazement that a guy like me could have ever been in the military he is all to familiar with...i assured him there are more of the me's out there...
we talked about book deals and movie rights...film festivals and action figures...we talked politics and then we talked more politics...his perspective put my own under a new light and i thank him for that...we drank beers...i had a Guinness while he had a miller light...miller light? of all the beers in that pub...
we sat for something like 3 hours and brought the world into focus...things are the way they are...but he has put his mark in this world forever...he opened up more eyes then my own and i think that is why i am so honored that he would wish to meet with me while he visited our country...i can only hope that you have continued success in your life and you keep getting paid for something you would do for free...you are amazing...
be safe salam...
a few days ago i received one of these emails from a person who has meant a lot to me in the last few years...a guy i came to know deeply...who put things in a profound sense and helped me understand so much...he was actually the reason i started this blog so long ago...but he didn't know that until i told him last night...
we had dinner in georgetown after i got off of work...(i'm working for one of the two major satellite radio companies now and it is an amazing thing to love your job)...there wasn't much of drive to meet him...the hotel that the guardian put him up in was very easy to find and the people at the front desk were helpful...even if he didn't give me his real name only a room number...face to face anonymity is a strange thing...
i sat waiting by the elevator for someone i've never met in person but whom i knew i would know once i saw...watching each door open with luggage totting visitors shuffle in and out...three separate doors all working in some strange 3 card monty...distracting my attention until a man whom i've known for over a year and half...who shared the difficulties of life with me...who helped to open up my eyes to the bigger picture...who i once read resembled a cherub stepped out of the elevator directly in front of me and also knew me instantly...the world is a strange place...
he was what i expected and yet he was more...
it felt as though we were catching up on old times that were shared even if neither of us could really understand the others experience...
we went to my truck to stick a parking pass on the rear view mirror and to my surprise he climbed up into the passenger seat...so i got in too because he must've wanted to go someplace...
as we drove down the cramped streets of georgetown we talked about the last year and where things have ended up...we talked about the cryptic hand signals used by american soldiers at iraqi check points...we talked about house music and military cultural awareness training...we talked about riverbend...we realized that we had no idea where we were going so we parked my massive F150 and set out on foot...
i found out that he is here as a reporter for the guardian...he's been lined up with amazing interviews that scare him...although i think he will do just fine because he is excellent in the fine art of conversation...he is aware of the many sides of such a difficult time...
he had questions for me...things he hasn't had the chance to ask a former soldier...he needed clarifications and explanations...i watched his eyes go big at some of my answers...i smiled at his amazement that a guy like me could have ever been in the military he is all to familiar with...i assured him there are more of the me's out there...
we talked about book deals and movie rights...film festivals and action figures...we talked politics and then we talked more politics...his perspective put my own under a new light and i thank him for that...we drank beers...i had a Guinness while he had a miller light...miller light? of all the beers in that pub...
we sat for something like 3 hours and brought the world into focus...things are the way they are...but he has put his mark in this world forever...he opened up more eyes then my own and i think that is why i am so honored that he would wish to meet with me while he visited our country...i can only hope that you have continued success in your life and you keep getting paid for something you would do for free...you are amazing...
be safe salam...
4.09.2004
one of the best soldier war blogs i've yet to find... e-rocky-confidential...maybe it's just his color scheme...damn you blog spot...with your limited user preferences...bah
9.23.2003
i sat at BIAP (baghdad international airport) for 13 hours for a 1 hour plane flight...the troop side of the airport is made up of giant tents...a small p.x. housed inside a big rig trailer...and a front gate with a sign that warns you in nice big red letters that "deadly force is authorized"...i slept on the floor...in the rocks...on my duffel bags...but not in the airport chairs which were provided...because they were the most uncomfortable hunks of dog crap i have ever been forced to sit in...the flight was delayed about 17 times...and once we finally palletized all of our bags we all sighed a sigh of sighing relief...we knew it was for real...i spent most of the day convinced that another military stoploss would come down and my company would send out a hmmv to collect me and my gear...i couldn't let myself believe that it was really happening...
but we boarded the C-5...a C-5 is the biggest plane in the airforce repertoire...it can house an abrahms tank and over 60 passengers...your house would fit inside of it...as i climbed up the entrance ladder...i turned a took my last look at iraq...and i thought of river...and salam...my last 7 months...and the road ahead...my life waiting for me not so patiently in the states...
i seated myself...in the back of the plane...the seating in one of those planes is actually above the main cargo hold...once you are inside you have to climb a second stairwell in the back of the plane...the seating up on the top floor faces backwards...and it's circa 1960...it's dim up there...the seats are three across...you can pull up the middle dividers and lay down...it's the only way to fly...if you're in the military at least...
once we were all cozy...they announced that some moron that manifested for the flight with us has not boarded the plane...and they can't find him...they aren't sure if his bags have been pallatized with us or not...so we have to download the pallets and claim our bags again...we aren't surprised...
back upstairs...in my seat...i wait...in the dim cabin...a master sergeant next to me...everyone kind of small talks...we're exhausted...the plane starts rolling...i can feel the disorientation...my guts moving the wrong way...the plane looks like it is stationary...but i can feel the movement...it feels weird...there's an exhilaration...and dramatic shift in inertia...a big angling...shaking...rattling...a thump...and it's smooth sailing...air born...home free...
oh...never fear...there is more...
but we boarded the C-5...a C-5 is the biggest plane in the airforce repertoire...it can house an abrahms tank and over 60 passengers...your house would fit inside of it...as i climbed up the entrance ladder...i turned a took my last look at iraq...and i thought of river...and salam...my last 7 months...and the road ahead...my life waiting for me not so patiently in the states...
i seated myself...in the back of the plane...the seating in one of those planes is actually above the main cargo hold...once you are inside you have to climb a second stairwell in the back of the plane...the seating up on the top floor faces backwards...and it's circa 1960...it's dim up there...the seats are three across...you can pull up the middle dividers and lay down...it's the only way to fly...if you're in the military at least...
once we were all cozy...they announced that some moron that manifested for the flight with us has not boarded the plane...and they can't find him...they aren't sure if his bags have been pallatized with us or not...so we have to download the pallets and claim our bags again...we aren't surprised...
back upstairs...in my seat...i wait...in the dim cabin...a master sergeant next to me...everyone kind of small talks...we're exhausted...the plane starts rolling...i can feel the disorientation...my guts moving the wrong way...the plane looks like it is stationary...but i can feel the movement...it feels weird...there's an exhilaration...and dramatic shift in inertia...a big angling...shaking...rattling...a thump...and it's smooth sailing...air born...home free...
oh...never fear...there is more...
9.21.2003
9.12.2003
thank paul woodward of warincontext.org for this interview
i'm writing from my tailgate...it's dark...the mosquitoes are bad...one of my best friends on earth...laub...he just left...he came over to my site and spent most of the evening with me...it was a good way to wrap this up...thinking and talking about old times...old parties...old friends...he just left...i may or may not see him again...it's hard to tell...i hope i do...i hope i see a lot of these guys again...my heat baby...willie b....big sexxy...oscar...who knows what the future holds...
i've been thinking about how i should wrap this up...i've actually given thought to what i should say...you should all know that i never think about what i'm going to write...it just kind of starts with a sentence...and a page and half later...it's done...i usually proof read about 9 times...but still the miss spellings will sneak through...i try my best...i really do...
there is a surreal feeling in knowing that this is my last night in the 'rak'...that by this time next week...i will be in my woman’s arms...that i will be home...and i will never have to leave again for something like this...it's a big feeling...calming in a nervous kind of way...jumpy while at peace...
i thought i should try to explain my confusion...to really lay it on the line...i think you all deserve that...especially you 'o.g.'s out there...the ones that have been reading since the beginning...and the ones i write to pretty often...you know who you are...
someone emailed me the other day and started this train of thought with in my big head...they used some terms that made me understand my confusion...my confusion was confusing...he used the words 'macro' and 'micro'...these words hit the problems square on the nose...and i nod an affirmative towards them...
to many i'm sure that it would appear that i can not see the 'macro' good that is attempting to come through with this war...the bigger picture...but i do...i know that saddam was a horrendous tyrant...capable of anything...holding his country at knife point...slaughtering...kidnapping...freighting...
this country was not free..and it was being taken advantage of...it was being reaped...and it seems as though only a few would see the rewards...those in favor with the big guy...america liked him...with the old adage of 'the enemy of my enemy...'...but that adage is not the best to ever come out of someone’s mouth...and it creates problems...just like in afghanistan...we create problems...we have to deal with them...it's not fair...but that is the way it is...i look at iraq now...and i know that they were not in a black hole...they lived somewhat normal lives in comparison to us...the u.s....they did have internet even if it was monitored and fire walled...they did not have television as we know it from what i've read...i'm sure the t.v. waves snuck through to some...but not all...they did not have some very basic freedoms that we take for granted...i read an article by salam...he actually feared for his life while writing his journal...he feared for his family...and he risked their lives by putting his feelings out there...the feelings that we all could relate to...the feelings that said..."we aren't so different...you and i"...
there are mass graves being unearthed...there are people digging through them...trying desperately to find long since gone loved ones...i can't even imagine...yes i can...
i do think that iraq will one day be better...i do think that this country will enjoy basic freedoms...and i hope they will be able to take advantage of them...with out intervention from any outside source...they deserve it...because they are not all terrorists/freedom fighters/militants/what ever...they are people...and they hurt...and they worry...and they sweat...and they work...and they provide as best they can...that's what we do...all of us...
and maybe that is why the 'micro' problems hurt me so...because i see now...like i've never seen before...the blinders are off...the eyes are wide...my heart is open...gut wrenching...and horrible...a problem we caused...that we have to end...and i wonder...at what cost...how many more will die...how many more will fight...how many more will feel the unquenched disbelief at this new situation...this situation that isn't exactly panning out like we might have imagined...i here the small arms fire...i feel the explosions...the 'micro' has slapped me in the face everyday that i woke up here...it has affected me...it will continue to affect for the rest of my life...i know all to well that people...iraqis...and americans...are dying everyday...i see the smoke from the car bombs...i feel the hurt in my heart...
they are dying here...these people...humans...us...
i have felt...on a few occasions...an extreme relief...a overwhelming peace...a mind-blowing simplicity...i have realized in nights of thought and self reflection...that every particle...every moment...every act...and every life...that has ever existed throughout the dawning of all and everything has worked to bring you...me...and us...to this exact moment in time...and who are we to waste that...who are we to throw away such an opportunity...to see the other side...to feel one another’s pain...to work for a better tomorrow...to make good on bad decisions...
i know that the world is hard...i know that iraq is worse then it was 6 months ago...in terms of just about everything...but i have to believe that it will turn around...someday...i have to believe it in my heart...that i was apart of something good...no matter it's perceived reasoning...no matter what...i have to believe that i have worked to do the right thing in this country so far from my home...because how could i live with myself any other way...
my walk is almost over...but the journey is far from complete...
this is moja_vera...live from baghdad...
peace in the middle east 2003
i've been thinking about how i should wrap this up...i've actually given thought to what i should say...you should all know that i never think about what i'm going to write...it just kind of starts with a sentence...and a page and half later...it's done...i usually proof read about 9 times...but still the miss spellings will sneak through...i try my best...i really do...
there is a surreal feeling in knowing that this is my last night in the 'rak'...that by this time next week...i will be in my woman’s arms...that i will be home...and i will never have to leave again for something like this...it's a big feeling...calming in a nervous kind of way...jumpy while at peace...
i thought i should try to explain my confusion...to really lay it on the line...i think you all deserve that...especially you 'o.g.'s out there...the ones that have been reading since the beginning...and the ones i write to pretty often...you know who you are...
someone emailed me the other day and started this train of thought with in my big head...they used some terms that made me understand my confusion...my confusion was confusing...he used the words 'macro' and 'micro'...these words hit the problems square on the nose...and i nod an affirmative towards them...
to many i'm sure that it would appear that i can not see the 'macro' good that is attempting to come through with this war...the bigger picture...but i do...i know that saddam was a horrendous tyrant...capable of anything...holding his country at knife point...slaughtering...kidnapping...freighting...
this country was not free..and it was being taken advantage of...it was being reaped...and it seems as though only a few would see the rewards...those in favor with the big guy...america liked him...with the old adage of 'the enemy of my enemy...'...but that adage is not the best to ever come out of someone’s mouth...and it creates problems...just like in afghanistan...we create problems...we have to deal with them...it's not fair...but that is the way it is...i look at iraq now...and i know that they were not in a black hole...they lived somewhat normal lives in comparison to us...the u.s....they did have internet even if it was monitored and fire walled...they did not have television as we know it from what i've read...i'm sure the t.v. waves snuck through to some...but not all...they did not have some very basic freedoms that we take for granted...i read an article by salam...he actually feared for his life while writing his journal...he feared for his family...and he risked their lives by putting his feelings out there...the feelings that we all could relate to...the feelings that said..."we aren't so different...you and i"...
there are mass graves being unearthed...there are people digging through them...trying desperately to find long since gone loved ones...i can't even imagine...yes i can...
i do think that iraq will one day be better...i do think that this country will enjoy basic freedoms...and i hope they will be able to take advantage of them...with out intervention from any outside source...they deserve it...because they are not all terrorists/freedom fighters/militants/what ever...they are people...and they hurt...and they worry...and they sweat...and they work...and they provide as best they can...that's what we do...all of us...
and maybe that is why the 'micro' problems hurt me so...because i see now...like i've never seen before...the blinders are off...the eyes are wide...my heart is open...gut wrenching...and horrible...a problem we caused...that we have to end...and i wonder...at what cost...how many more will die...how many more will fight...how many more will feel the unquenched disbelief at this new situation...this situation that isn't exactly panning out like we might have imagined...i here the small arms fire...i feel the explosions...the 'micro' has slapped me in the face everyday that i woke up here...it has affected me...it will continue to affect for the rest of my life...i know all to well that people...iraqis...and americans...are dying everyday...i see the smoke from the car bombs...i feel the hurt in my heart...
they are dying here...these people...humans...us...
i have felt...on a few occasions...an extreme relief...a overwhelming peace...a mind-blowing simplicity...i have realized in nights of thought and self reflection...that every particle...every moment...every act...and every life...that has ever existed throughout the dawning of all and everything has worked to bring you...me...and us...to this exact moment in time...and who are we to waste that...who are we to throw away such an opportunity...to see the other side...to feel one another’s pain...to work for a better tomorrow...to make good on bad decisions...
i know that the world is hard...i know that iraq is worse then it was 6 months ago...in terms of just about everything...but i have to believe that it will turn around...someday...i have to believe it in my heart...that i was apart of something good...no matter it's perceived reasoning...no matter what...i have to believe that i have worked to do the right thing in this country so far from my home...because how could i live with myself any other way...
my walk is almost over...but the journey is far from complete...
this is moja_vera...live from baghdad...
peace in the middle east 2003
9.11.2003
some people join up...and they know that they will do 20 years...they just know some how that they are a 'lifer'...some people sign on for only 2...and they know they won't do a minute longer...i signed on for 6...boom...right off the bat...6 years...i would be lying if i said they were all easy...if they were all a cake walk...i've hated my job more then once...and a few times the only thing that kept me from fleeing was the fear of jail...it's not an easy profession...and it's not for everybody...
i've known troops who stay in for an assortment of reasons...there are those that genuinely appreciate being a soldier...the military gives their lives worth and purpose...i find that very admirable...there are those that stay in for so long because they are scared to get out...a steady pay check becomes quite an important thing once you've started a young family...there are those that stay in because they think the job is easy compared to working in the outside world...you get a pay check no matter your job performance...it's a lot harder to get fired...
people are here for a vast and unending assortment of reasons...soldiers do their duty for the most part...every profession has it's slackers...the people that skate by...the troops that do the bare minimum...i've felt more then once that those that do the absolute least amount of work they can get away with are rewarded in a way...because if you're a horrible worker...you will not be picked for the important jobs...the 'good' missions...if you're diligent...and steadfast...and intelligent...the army will use you for all you're worth...and more often then not put you away dirty...it is a thankless job most times...
i'm not a lifer...i never intended to be...that was never the plan...the army has been my home for so long...but i could not even imagine starting a family with in it's confines...i've seen more divorces then happy endings...it is sad but is true...this life is to hard for most soldiers loved ones...i like to be there for my peeps...i like to do 'stuff'...i like to be home...in america...the country i love...the country that gives me worth...the country that i would fight and die for to protect...that's what i signed on to do...that's why they tell me i'm here...
hermann hess said something remarkable to me...in a book he wrote years ago...
"a man is a hero, and deserves special interest only if his nature and his education have rendered him able to let his individuality be almost perfectly absorbed in it's hierarchic function without at the same time forfeiting the vigorous fresh, admirable impetus which make for the savor and worth of the individual."...clearly he speaking on more the moral based nature of man...and not on the action/reaction bound individual...they are quite more then heroes if one were to go by this decree...and 'hero' to me is not a big enough word to describe what i think of my fellow soldiers...the ones in the trenches...doing what soldiers do...following their orders...
i am eager for home...and nothing that is said to me will ever make me feel bad for those feelings...not today...or any day...every soldier out here would leave just as quickly if the big man in camouflage told him or her that their day was up...especailly having reached the tail end of back to back 8 month deployments...and 6 long years...a quarter of my young life has been guided and shaped by the military...and for the rest of my life i know that i will remain a military man at heart...utilizing all of my gained knowledge and strength that the army forced me to create within myself...i took advantage of this time...i put it to my own best interest...and i will return to america in a few short...forever long...days...because it is the land of my birth...and it will be the land of my death...it is where i will create my children...and watch them grow...there is no other country for me...and that is why i feel so strongly for all of it's decisions...the decisions that affect my life everyday...that will continue to affect each and every life it touches for all of it's existence...in positive ways...and in negative ones as well...
for the last six years...i have completed my duty...i did raise my hand...i took the oath of allegiance...and it has taken me far...now i will come home and live a normal life and raise a normal family enjoying the normal freedom that is provided for me by our countries normal soldiers...but the greatest irony...or the greatest reward is that i still do not have to agree with any of the reasons in which i have been questioned...because that is the right that i have earned...that is my right as an american...and as a soldier...
i've known troops who stay in for an assortment of reasons...there are those that genuinely appreciate being a soldier...the military gives their lives worth and purpose...i find that very admirable...there are those that stay in for so long because they are scared to get out...a steady pay check becomes quite an important thing once you've started a young family...there are those that stay in because they think the job is easy compared to working in the outside world...you get a pay check no matter your job performance...it's a lot harder to get fired...
people are here for a vast and unending assortment of reasons...soldiers do their duty for the most part...every profession has it's slackers...the people that skate by...the troops that do the bare minimum...i've felt more then once that those that do the absolute least amount of work they can get away with are rewarded in a way...because if you're a horrible worker...you will not be picked for the important jobs...the 'good' missions...if you're diligent...and steadfast...and intelligent...the army will use you for all you're worth...and more often then not put you away dirty...it is a thankless job most times...
i'm not a lifer...i never intended to be...that was never the plan...the army has been my home for so long...but i could not even imagine starting a family with in it's confines...i've seen more divorces then happy endings...it is sad but is true...this life is to hard for most soldiers loved ones...i like to be there for my peeps...i like to do 'stuff'...i like to be home...in america...the country i love...the country that gives me worth...the country that i would fight and die for to protect...that's what i signed on to do...that's why they tell me i'm here...
hermann hess said something remarkable to me...in a book he wrote years ago...
"a man is a hero, and deserves special interest only if his nature and his education have rendered him able to let his individuality be almost perfectly absorbed in it's hierarchic function without at the same time forfeiting the vigorous fresh, admirable impetus which make for the savor and worth of the individual."...clearly he speaking on more the moral based nature of man...and not on the action/reaction bound individual...they are quite more then heroes if one were to go by this decree...and 'hero' to me is not a big enough word to describe what i think of my fellow soldiers...the ones in the trenches...doing what soldiers do...following their orders...
i am eager for home...and nothing that is said to me will ever make me feel bad for those feelings...not today...or any day...every soldier out here would leave just as quickly if the big man in camouflage told him or her that their day was up...especailly having reached the tail end of back to back 8 month deployments...and 6 long years...a quarter of my young life has been guided and shaped by the military...and for the rest of my life i know that i will remain a military man at heart...utilizing all of my gained knowledge and strength that the army forced me to create within myself...i took advantage of this time...i put it to my own best interest...and i will return to america in a few short...forever long...days...because it is the land of my birth...and it will be the land of my death...it is where i will create my children...and watch them grow...there is no other country for me...and that is why i feel so strongly for all of it's decisions...the decisions that affect my life everyday...that will continue to affect each and every life it touches for all of it's existence...in positive ways...and in negative ones as well...
for the last six years...i have completed my duty...i did raise my hand...i took the oath of allegiance...and it has taken me far...now i will come home and live a normal life and raise a normal family enjoying the normal freedom that is provided for me by our countries normal soldiers...but the greatest irony...or the greatest reward is that i still do not have to agree with any of the reasons in which i have been questioned...because that is the right that i have earned...that is my right as an american...and as a soldier...
9.10.2003
i packed today...i still have a few days to go...but since i really had nothing better to do and i knew that packing would only take me a few minutes i went on ahead...i never really unpacked...i've lived out of duffel bags for almost 8 months...i used an old n.b.c. bag as a sock drawer and i hung it from the tent rail across the ceiling above my cot...i stick my underwear in there too...when i left this last time...with the newly gained experience and knowledge of my last deployment...i bought a gratuitous amount of socks and underwear...because i knew that i would burn through them like old newspaper...they never really get washed very well...they get stained...and thin...and patchy...and i ended up throwing quite a few pairs away...i learned that you shouldn't use the whitey tighties...because they will never stay white...the lack of showers or laundry services force you to create an apparition of cleanliness...if it looks clean...it is clean...
i just got my final laundry bag back...i've got a few things that i need to wash but i will do that once i reach kuwait...i only need to worry about having enough underwear and socks to make it through the next few days...i wear 1 uniform for about a week so i kept a clean one out and i will add the one that i am wearing now to my dirty clothes bag the night before my departure...
rummaging through my big desert camouflage flight bag...the one i bought in uzbekistan last year...i pulled out little trinkets and trash long since forgotten...1 cuban cigar...previously held captive by the old regime of saddam..but newly liberated...i will smoke it in the name of freedom upon my arrival home...1 kuwaiti/iraqi map...given to us for our convoy up into baghdad...1 ash tray smuggled through the underground railroad from saddams personal smoking parlor...6 old love letters which will remain with me until my dying day...an assortment of pictures sent to me by my woman...1 humanitarian MRE...it's bright yellow and it says "a gift from the people of the united states of america"...they make the packaging bright yellow so that they will not be confused for bombs when they are dropped from planes...1 book entitled "the story of philosophy" by william durant...1 book entitled "religions of the world"...1 book entitled "the count of monte christo" by dumas...1 book entitled "the glass bead game" by herman hess...1 book entitled "invisible monsters" by chuck palahniuk...1 box unopened Q-tips...13 empty cd cases...1 belt buckle that is molded in the shape of an open book with the words "Bible Belt" etched on it's surface...1 ukulele...1 american flag (dusty and torn...folded)...1 coleman lantern with batteries...1 bottle all natural insect repellant...5 yogart dipped power bars...1 note pad...1 spare hat...and 1 deflated inflatable mattress...
it all fit nicely...and now i could be ready to leave in all of 10 minutes...these are...without doubt...the longest days of my life...
i just got my final laundry bag back...i've got a few things that i need to wash but i will do that once i reach kuwait...i only need to worry about having enough underwear and socks to make it through the next few days...i wear 1 uniform for about a week so i kept a clean one out and i will add the one that i am wearing now to my dirty clothes bag the night before my departure...
rummaging through my big desert camouflage flight bag...the one i bought in uzbekistan last year...i pulled out little trinkets and trash long since forgotten...1 cuban cigar...previously held captive by the old regime of saddam..but newly liberated...i will smoke it in the name of freedom upon my arrival home...1 kuwaiti/iraqi map...given to us for our convoy up into baghdad...1 ash tray smuggled through the underground railroad from saddams personal smoking parlor...6 old love letters which will remain with me until my dying day...an assortment of pictures sent to me by my woman...1 humanitarian MRE...it's bright yellow and it says "a gift from the people of the united states of america"...they make the packaging bright yellow so that they will not be confused for bombs when they are dropped from planes...1 book entitled "the story of philosophy" by william durant...1 book entitled "religions of the world"...1 book entitled "the count of monte christo" by dumas...1 book entitled "the glass bead game" by herman hess...1 book entitled "invisible monsters" by chuck palahniuk...1 box unopened Q-tips...13 empty cd cases...1 belt buckle that is molded in the shape of an open book with the words "Bible Belt" etched on it's surface...1 ukulele...1 american flag (dusty and torn...folded)...1 coleman lantern with batteries...1 bottle all natural insect repellant...5 yogart dipped power bars...1 note pad...1 spare hat...and 1 deflated inflatable mattress...
it all fit nicely...and now i could be ready to leave in all of 10 minutes...these are...without doubt...the longest days of my life...
9.09.2003
well i've caught hell over what i said about riverbend...what she said moved me like nothing that has moved me in months...it upset me...it made me feel bad...
there are so many people out there who think that all iraqis are the enemy...that all of them are not worth one american life...i'm scared by this mindset...this is how these things will perpetuate and drag on forever...we will have a strong military presence in iraq for years to come...some of your children that are still in junior high will serve over here...it is going to happen...be ready for it...and it is only going to get worse before it gets better...be ready for that too...
there are so many questions brewing inside of me...i am more confused now then when we arrived almost 8 months ago...to many...a good soldier must be one who doesn't look at the bigger picture...they should only care about the mission in front of their eyes...and the guy next to them...i wonder now what i am...if i have clouded myself in an illusion...because i think of all and everyone...because i am just as worried for riverbend or salam as i am for chief wiggles or chromedome...their lives all mean as much to me as any of the others that are here...those that live here...and those that deployed here...
for all those that would question me and my ideals...i can only say that i hope each and everyone one of your children joins the military...and deploys to a far off third world country...and watches the american might destroy another force and nation in the name of freedom...i hope they see the insanity of war...the madness all around them...and i hope they return home to you...alive and with all their limbs...more confused then when they left...just like me..
i spent this war in a box on the back of a hmmv...i was not on the front lines...i was on the phone lines...i have earned from the military everything that i set out to achieve...and then some...my opinions may be clouded with thoughts of being a civilian...my ideas come straight at you over the internet...but i know that i am not alone...i know that for every one soldier that would think less of me because i do not understand this war...there is another combat veteran or serving soldier who understands what i have tried to say...and your emails of encouragement are the ones that mean the most to me...those are the ones that i read over and over again when i feel less then 100%...those are the ones i fall back on when i begin to doubt myself and my decisions in life...i know that i am not less then any other...in fact...i am more then most...and i am not alone...
there are so many people out there who think that all iraqis are the enemy...that all of them are not worth one american life...i'm scared by this mindset...this is how these things will perpetuate and drag on forever...we will have a strong military presence in iraq for years to come...some of your children that are still in junior high will serve over here...it is going to happen...be ready for it...and it is only going to get worse before it gets better...be ready for that too...
there are so many questions brewing inside of me...i am more confused now then when we arrived almost 8 months ago...to many...a good soldier must be one who doesn't look at the bigger picture...they should only care about the mission in front of their eyes...and the guy next to them...i wonder now what i am...if i have clouded myself in an illusion...because i think of all and everyone...because i am just as worried for riverbend or salam as i am for chief wiggles or chromedome...their lives all mean as much to me as any of the others that are here...those that live here...and those that deployed here...
for all those that would question me and my ideals...i can only say that i hope each and everyone one of your children joins the military...and deploys to a far off third world country...and watches the american might destroy another force and nation in the name of freedom...i hope they see the insanity of war...the madness all around them...and i hope they return home to you...alive and with all their limbs...more confused then when they left...just like me..
i spent this war in a box on the back of a hmmv...i was not on the front lines...i was on the phone lines...i have earned from the military everything that i set out to achieve...and then some...my opinions may be clouded with thoughts of being a civilian...my ideas come straight at you over the internet...but i know that i am not alone...i know that for every one soldier that would think less of me because i do not understand this war...there is another combat veteran or serving soldier who understands what i have tried to say...and your emails of encouragement are the ones that mean the most to me...those are the ones that i read over and over again when i feel less then 100%...those are the ones i fall back on when i begin to doubt myself and my decisions in life...i know that i am not less then any other...in fact...i am more then most...and i am not alone...
9.08.2003
everything i have ever written...or said...or will ever write...or say...is worthless in comparison to this post...08sep2003
the word for the day is empathy...
surprises for me this morning...i got in two new soldiers...new troops to take the load off my horrified privates...one of them is a reclass generator mechanic (which is always a good thing to have around) and the other has a few years of experience but it is all strategic...which means they both know nothing about tactical...but they will learn...they are both very intelligent...
i spent the majority of the day getting them acquainted...showing them the ropes...bringing them up to speed with all the equipment that they have never seen before...i have to work quickly...the freedom bird awaits...
one of my infantry puke buddies brought me a going away present last night...he said he was going to...i guess i didn't take him seriously...it's a brand spankin' new iraqi bayonet...and it's really freakin' cool...very tough looking...i've never been a weapon guy...i'm not into rifles...or pistols...or knives...but this thing is a keep sake...thanks brother...i'll treasure it always...he said it was confiscated off one of the iraqi workers who tried to bring it on to the compound...and although a nice gruesome story about it's appearance might make it cooler...i would rather have a bayonet that has never been used...especially one that's sole purpose in life is to kill other soldiers...namely me...
there is some question as to whether or not i'll be able to take it home...they keep changing the rules about war souvenirs...i guess i'll find out when get back to kuwait...
my time is so short now that i've actually started counting down more things then just my days...like right now i have 11 meals left...5 more drives to work...2 more P.T. formations...i speculate that i will probably use the port-a-john 4 more times for a number 2...and i will wear 3 more pairs of socks...
i think about leaving every minute of every day...while i'm talking to my troops...in the back of my head...even though i'm saying something very profound and important about their job performance...i'm thinking 'i want to go home'...it really sucks...i even dream about it...i actually dream about going home...amazing...
i've been working really hard to make sure that i don't portray a 'short timers' attitude...i want my last impressions on my soldiers to be that of a professional...i want to leave my team in better condition than what i found it...creating quick reference sheets with all of our crucial data and settings...schedules for maintenance...phone numbers they might need...everything that i can think of...but the problem of thinking of everything is that it's impossible...and i know that the day after i leave they will come up with a question they will wish that they could ask me...and i won't be there...they're nervous...i am too...
surprises for me this morning...i got in two new soldiers...new troops to take the load off my horrified privates...one of them is a reclass generator mechanic (which is always a good thing to have around) and the other has a few years of experience but it is all strategic...which means they both know nothing about tactical...but they will learn...they are both very intelligent...
i spent the majority of the day getting them acquainted...showing them the ropes...bringing them up to speed with all the equipment that they have never seen before...i have to work quickly...the freedom bird awaits...
one of my infantry puke buddies brought me a going away present last night...he said he was going to...i guess i didn't take him seriously...it's a brand spankin' new iraqi bayonet...and it's really freakin' cool...very tough looking...i've never been a weapon guy...i'm not into rifles...or pistols...or knives...but this thing is a keep sake...thanks brother...i'll treasure it always...he said it was confiscated off one of the iraqi workers who tried to bring it on to the compound...and although a nice gruesome story about it's appearance might make it cooler...i would rather have a bayonet that has never been used...especially one that's sole purpose in life is to kill other soldiers...namely me...
there is some question as to whether or not i'll be able to take it home...they keep changing the rules about war souvenirs...i guess i'll find out when get back to kuwait...
my time is so short now that i've actually started counting down more things then just my days...like right now i have 11 meals left...5 more drives to work...2 more P.T. formations...i speculate that i will probably use the port-a-john 4 more times for a number 2...and i will wear 3 more pairs of socks...
i think about leaving every minute of every day...while i'm talking to my troops...in the back of my head...even though i'm saying something very profound and important about their job performance...i'm thinking 'i want to go home'...it really sucks...i even dream about it...i actually dream about going home...amazing...
i've been working really hard to make sure that i don't portray a 'short timers' attitude...i want my last impressions on my soldiers to be that of a professional...i want to leave my team in better condition than what i found it...creating quick reference sheets with all of our crucial data and settings...schedules for maintenance...phone numbers they might need...everything that i can think of...but the problem of thinking of everything is that it's impossible...and i know that the day after i leave they will come up with a question they will wish that they could ask me...and i won't be there...they're nervous...i am too...
9.07.2003
i started throwing stuff out this morning...the whole mice thing has me freaked out...because i'm deathly afraid of snakes...i went digging around in my 'poggy bait' box...poggy bait is just junk food...i don't know why they call it that in the army...it's just one of the many things that i take on face value...once i reached down to the bottom and pulled out my ramen noodles i could see that some of the bags were half empty and nice big holes were chewed right through the sides...and in the bottom...rolling around in the box...freedom turds...oh the subtle joys of iraq...
the weather has been so nice the last few days that i'm almost sad to go...no i'm not...it's very strange...and i'm not sure if anyone else knows the feeling i'm talking about...but do you know when you have to go into work on the weekend...how it all just feels kind of different...like for some reason the fact that it is a saturday or a sunday puts a whole new spin on the work day...everything is a bit more relaxed...it's weird to me because even though absolutely nothing is different about my weekends from my weekdays it does feel like the weekend...i've wondered about this for 7 months...coincidently...i've only had one day off in that time...what kind of pay scale does that work out to...at least 12 hours a day...everyday...for over 7 months...i'm sure it works out to a lot more then i've earned...if you ever hear anyone say we do this for the money...bitch slap them...
my soldier is still coming to me with issues...and he gets all big and wide eyed when i turn them right back over to him...he has to learn that he is going to be taking care of himself and another soldier for the next few months...at least until they get another team chief...i think this entire chain of events has the opportunity to create one hell of a leader in him...i'm doing my best to instill the proper guidelines...it's up to him to carry them out...the military really is to easy to succeed at...there are only four major requirements...be where you're supposed to be...do what your supposed to do...be in the right uniform...and be on time...these things are easier said then done...but it's all about the principalities 'smokey'...
we have another rig set up next to us...and they are to relaxed...they don't really clean up their shelter...or work on their generators...or do anything that they are supposed to do...and lately...they've been getting trashed by our l.t....so it is even easier for us to look like we are military superstars just by doing our jobs...my troops see this...and i think it is having an effect...true character is derived from how you handle yourself when no one is looking...
rummy was here...and now he's gone...his visit really had no effect on my life..and the flippin militants/freedom fighters/terrorists/what ever tried to hit his flippin plane with a flippin missile...oh yeah...a missile...i was actually given a choice on how i am to leave iraq..."sergeant...do you want to convoy back down to kuwait...or would you like to fly out a day earlier then the convoy"...they really asked me this..."um...as much as another heart warming convoy through the very heart of combat zone iraq does sound strangely appealing in a saddo masochistic kind of way i'm going to have to turn that decision over in my mind for a few moments of quiet deliberation...umm...i'm going to fly first sergeant"...exactly one minute and 14 seconds later i had a plane flight...but now i'm wondering...should i've taken the convoy??? missiles...snakes...mouse dookie...people does it ever end...why actually...yes it does...in about a week it ends forever...for me anyway...
peace in the middle east 2003
the weather has been so nice the last few days that i'm almost sad to go...no i'm not...it's very strange...and i'm not sure if anyone else knows the feeling i'm talking about...but do you know when you have to go into work on the weekend...how it all just feels kind of different...like for some reason the fact that it is a saturday or a sunday puts a whole new spin on the work day...everything is a bit more relaxed...it's weird to me because even though absolutely nothing is different about my weekends from my weekdays it does feel like the weekend...i've wondered about this for 7 months...coincidently...i've only had one day off in that time...what kind of pay scale does that work out to...at least 12 hours a day...everyday...for over 7 months...i'm sure it works out to a lot more then i've earned...if you ever hear anyone say we do this for the money...bitch slap them...
my soldier is still coming to me with issues...and he gets all big and wide eyed when i turn them right back over to him...he has to learn that he is going to be taking care of himself and another soldier for the next few months...at least until they get another team chief...i think this entire chain of events has the opportunity to create one hell of a leader in him...i'm doing my best to instill the proper guidelines...it's up to him to carry them out...the military really is to easy to succeed at...there are only four major requirements...be where you're supposed to be...do what your supposed to do...be in the right uniform...and be on time...these things are easier said then done...but it's all about the principalities 'smokey'...
we have another rig set up next to us...and they are to relaxed...they don't really clean up their shelter...or work on their generators...or do anything that they are supposed to do...and lately...they've been getting trashed by our l.t....so it is even easier for us to look like we are military superstars just by doing our jobs...my troops see this...and i think it is having an effect...true character is derived from how you handle yourself when no one is looking...
rummy was here...and now he's gone...his visit really had no effect on my life..and the flippin militants/freedom fighters/terrorists/what ever tried to hit his flippin plane with a flippin missile...oh yeah...a missile...i was actually given a choice on how i am to leave iraq..."sergeant...do you want to convoy back down to kuwait...or would you like to fly out a day earlier then the convoy"...they really asked me this..."um...as much as another heart warming convoy through the very heart of combat zone iraq does sound strangely appealing in a saddo masochistic kind of way i'm going to have to turn that decision over in my mind for a few moments of quiet deliberation...umm...i'm going to fly first sergeant"...exactly one minute and 14 seconds later i had a plane flight...but now i'm wondering...should i've taken the convoy??? missiles...snakes...mouse dookie...people does it ever end...why actually...yes it does...in about a week it ends forever...for me anyway...
peace in the middle east 2003
it's the middle of the night...02:39 to be exact...blogger is finally up and i understand why they have been down for 2 days...they have totally revamped their template...it's actually pretty killer now...to bad i think i'm coming to the end of my journal...today i received a definite date for departure...i'll be out of country in a week...i've been giving a lot of thought as to whether or not i will continue this blog and i don't think i will...this thing has been part of a chapter of my life that is now coming to a close...and soon i will step out of my d.c.u.'s and into some nice blue jeans and d.c. shoes...i'll be a normal guy once again...doing normal guy stuff...nothing special about me...no new worthy adventure where my life is flashed up on the news groups or channels...but who really knows what the future holds...
i'm up late because there is another v.t.c. scheduled with my girlfriend...it almost seems unnecessary...seeing as how i am leaving in such a short time...but then i think about how much i miss my woman...and i say 'naah'...i could look at her lovely face for as long as they let me...
i've been spending the last few days bringing my senior operator (the heat baby) up to speed with all of his new responsibilities...he's signing for all of the equipment...this is a pretty big thing...especially for such a young soldier...the cost of my rig is well into the millions...and that's a plural on the end...he's so scared of screwing up that i'm sure he's going to over do everything and leave no room for error...i know he can handle it...
he came into work today and told me that in the few hours that he was trying to sleep before his shift his mouse trap caught 7 little mice...this was only in the period of about 4 hours...he was using pop tarts as bait...mice are bad news because they bring snakes...and they are even worse...especially when you have to worry about some crazy iraqi pit viper of death...living in a tent sucks in more ways then most will ever realize...
he's on night shift now and he spends most of his time watching baseball scores change over the internet...adjusting his fantasy football team...and scrutinizing his hand receipts...
my time is almost up for the v.t.c....i'm tired...and i have to get up in few and do it all over again...but my days are down to handful and 2 extra...i can handle just about anything right now...
i'm up late because there is another v.t.c. scheduled with my girlfriend...it almost seems unnecessary...seeing as how i am leaving in such a short time...but then i think about how much i miss my woman...and i say 'naah'...i could look at her lovely face for as long as they let me...
i've been spending the last few days bringing my senior operator (the heat baby) up to speed with all of his new responsibilities...he's signing for all of the equipment...this is a pretty big thing...especially for such a young soldier...the cost of my rig is well into the millions...and that's a plural on the end...he's so scared of screwing up that i'm sure he's going to over do everything and leave no room for error...i know he can handle it...
he came into work today and told me that in the few hours that he was trying to sleep before his shift his mouse trap caught 7 little mice...this was only in the period of about 4 hours...he was using pop tarts as bait...mice are bad news because they bring snakes...and they are even worse...especially when you have to worry about some crazy iraqi pit viper of death...living in a tent sucks in more ways then most will ever realize...
he's on night shift now and he spends most of his time watching baseball scores change over the internet...adjusting his fantasy football team...and scrutinizing his hand receipts...
my time is almost up for the v.t.c....i'm tired...and i have to get up in few and do it all over again...but my days are down to handful and 2 extra...i can handle just about anything right now...
9.05.2003
i was listening to an ex-marine turned army staff sergeant...and an ex-abrahms tanker turned signal puke...they described the scene as a long stretch of road running through the middle of a small foreign town...fox holes and machine gun nests littering the road way...snipers plugged up in windows...the enemy dug in deep...an assault by ground forces would prove catastrophic...there were very few options that would lead to victory over these circumstances...
the good guys brought in the tanks...lined them up side by side facing down the fortified roadway...simultaneously the tanks fired two rounds down range...the rounds created enough of a vacuum that the enemy soldiers were sucked from their fortifications and into the middle of the street...where they were gunned down from a top the turret...or rolled over by tank tread...
they laughed at this story...they made sound effects...squashing and womping...and they thought it was great...i found no humor in this tale...and i'm not sure what i think about it...
no doubt this ingenuity saved soldiers lives...this technological advantage and subsequent use of it brought soldiers home...to their families...their loved ones...people are alive today because of a vacuum induced by tank rounds...
and there are many dead men...the enemy...holed up...protecting their encampments...doing their jobs...war is so crazy...it boggles me...it horrifies me...human life wasted...but there is always that greater good that i hear about...the greater good...
the u.s. military is the largest volunteer military in the world...we serve no mandatory term...and service does not "guarantee citizenship"...it was already ours in the first place...we all made a choice...some made it eagerly...while others just made it...there are those soldiers who join and spend the next few years of their lives fighting all personal change and growth that the military would force upon them...and there are those that welcome it...and need it...and yearn for it...
i listen to people talk...educated soldiers...there are others who pay attention...who have view points and it always excites me to listen to a well read soldier with differing views approach a discussion with a level head...that is how others will learn something...debate with an open mind forces others to grow as people...
i listened to the ex-marine turned staff sergeant...and he made good points...he understands that what we do isn't fair...but he makes the point that it doesn't have to be...
he has a tattoo on his forearm that says 'all gave some...some gave all'...
the world is volatile...and unpredictable...the 'liberation' of a country looks as though it may cause a civil war...i remember when we first arrived in baghdad...it seems like a life time ago...the people were still so happy to see us...they did line the streets...they waved...iraqis like to wave...i remember the taped programs my girlfriend sent me...the statues being torn down...iraqis waving american flags...pictures of saddam being beaten mercilessly with shoes...cheering...and that time is gone...it may as well of never happened...
i'm leaving...i think about it constantly...and i feel guilty...i get to go home...and start my life...it's been on pause...but then i think about my troops...fresh out of school...4 more years to go for them...and i wonder what they will see...where will they go...how many wars will they encounter that pause their lives...and force them to grow in unexpected and glorious ways...what will they learn...and see...what images will stick with them for the rest of their lives...will they think about me...
i think about riverbend...and the fact that she is home...there is no waiting loved one on the other side of the earth...or a little apartment and a truck with 20 inch rims...there isn't an escape back into a missed life for her...she is here and she will continue to be here...this is her life...in iraq...i wonder what she has already witnessed...and just how much more she will see...
the good guys brought in the tanks...lined them up side by side facing down the fortified roadway...simultaneously the tanks fired two rounds down range...the rounds created enough of a vacuum that the enemy soldiers were sucked from their fortifications and into the middle of the street...where they were gunned down from a top the turret...or rolled over by tank tread...
they laughed at this story...they made sound effects...squashing and womping...and they thought it was great...i found no humor in this tale...and i'm not sure what i think about it...
no doubt this ingenuity saved soldiers lives...this technological advantage and subsequent use of it brought soldiers home...to their families...their loved ones...people are alive today because of a vacuum induced by tank rounds...
and there are many dead men...the enemy...holed up...protecting their encampments...doing their jobs...war is so crazy...it boggles me...it horrifies me...human life wasted...but there is always that greater good that i hear about...the greater good...
the u.s. military is the largest volunteer military in the world...we serve no mandatory term...and service does not "guarantee citizenship"...it was already ours in the first place...we all made a choice...some made it eagerly...while others just made it...there are those soldiers who join and spend the next few years of their lives fighting all personal change and growth that the military would force upon them...and there are those that welcome it...and need it...and yearn for it...
i listen to people talk...educated soldiers...there are others who pay attention...who have view points and it always excites me to listen to a well read soldier with differing views approach a discussion with a level head...that is how others will learn something...debate with an open mind forces others to grow as people...
i listened to the ex-marine turned staff sergeant...and he made good points...he understands that what we do isn't fair...but he makes the point that it doesn't have to be...
he has a tattoo on his forearm that says 'all gave some...some gave all'...
the world is volatile...and unpredictable...the 'liberation' of a country looks as though it may cause a civil war...i remember when we first arrived in baghdad...it seems like a life time ago...the people were still so happy to see us...they did line the streets...they waved...iraqis like to wave...i remember the taped programs my girlfriend sent me...the statues being torn down...iraqis waving american flags...pictures of saddam being beaten mercilessly with shoes...cheering...and that time is gone...it may as well of never happened...
i'm leaving...i think about it constantly...and i feel guilty...i get to go home...and start my life...it's been on pause...but then i think about my troops...fresh out of school...4 more years to go for them...and i wonder what they will see...where will they go...how many wars will they encounter that pause their lives...and force them to grow in unexpected and glorious ways...what will they learn...and see...what images will stick with them for the rest of their lives...will they think about me...
i think about riverbend...and the fact that she is home...there is no waiting loved one on the other side of the earth...or a little apartment and a truck with 20 inch rims...there isn't an escape back into a missed life for her...she is here and she will continue to be here...this is her life...in iraq...i wonder what she has already witnessed...and just how much more she will see...
9.04.2003
i'm sleeping as much as possible...every chance i get...so that my days will fly by...and they are...amazingly enough...for a while it was getting really rough...it started once i found out that i had a pretty tentative date to leave...i watched every minute of every hour...they couldn't go by fast enough...but the realization is starting to sink in...and i don't believe it...i almost can't comprehend that it is a real thing...i will get to go home...home...i can remember that place...and i've got some pictures to prove it...
it's ironic that the apartment i leased so that my girlfriend could move out to live with me has seen more of her then it has of me...i feel like i'm moving into her house now...mine's a piece of canvas and a cot...it could be anywhere...anywhere but home...
i'm feeling better about my departure after reading the news yesterday...bringing in the multinational troops is the best thing for this country...and i don't think anyone can argue with that...that decision will bring american troops home...and it should turn more power over to the iraqis...who i think have earned it...and deserve it...it is thier country for crying out loud...
but i'm scared still...i fear iraq is about to be thrown back into an internal war...a civil war...they hate each other...and they hate us...we just want every body to wrap up in a nice big group hug..."sorry guys"..."yeah...we're sorry too"...but that's not going to happen...
i feel for the multinational troops that are going to get called up and sent down here...they definitely don't deserve it...a war they didn't start...but one they will have to end...life is unfair that way...there are no rules...and a lot of people might have to swallow some pride for the betterment of this country...the iraqis are the ones that are important...they are the ones who did not ask for this...and they are the ones that are dying...in colossal amounts compared to our boys and girls in green...my fellow soldiers...we need to do what is best for them...we did 'liberate' them after all...and if i'm not mistakin' that was the reasoning behind this war...
it's ironic that the apartment i leased so that my girlfriend could move out to live with me has seen more of her then it has of me...i feel like i'm moving into her house now...mine's a piece of canvas and a cot...it could be anywhere...anywhere but home...
i'm feeling better about my departure after reading the news yesterday...bringing in the multinational troops is the best thing for this country...and i don't think anyone can argue with that...that decision will bring american troops home...and it should turn more power over to the iraqis...who i think have earned it...and deserve it...it is thier country for crying out loud...
but i'm scared still...i fear iraq is about to be thrown back into an internal war...a civil war...they hate each other...and they hate us...we just want every body to wrap up in a nice big group hug..."sorry guys"..."yeah...we're sorry too"...but that's not going to happen...
i feel for the multinational troops that are going to get called up and sent down here...they definitely don't deserve it...a war they didn't start...but one they will have to end...life is unfair that way...there are no rules...and a lot of people might have to swallow some pride for the betterment of this country...the iraqis are the ones that are important...they are the ones who did not ask for this...and they are the ones that are dying...in colossal amounts compared to our boys and girls in green...my fellow soldiers...we need to do what is best for them...we did 'liberate' them after all...and if i'm not mistakin' that was the reasoning behind this war...
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN,
THE E-MAIL THAT HAS BEEN SENT OUT USING OUR COMPANY'S DOMAIN NAME IS A VIRUS
THAT HAS MALICIOUSLY ATTACKED OUR WEBSITE. WE REFUTE COMPLETELY THE COMMENTS
THAT HAVE BEEN MADE AND APOLOGISE FOR ANY UPSET THAT IT MAY HAVE CAUSED.
WE THANK YOU MOST SINCERELY FOR ALERTING US TO THIS SITUATION AND ARE
PRESENTLY DOING OUR UTMOST TO RECTIFY THE DAMAGE THAT THIS ATTACK HAS
CAUSED.
THANKING YOU FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING,
MARK & CHAPPELL LTD
(although i do thank many of you for watching my back...the death threats towards john are a bit much...the best response so far was from my bro in aussie land who was going to fax john some gay porn right to the office...very funny but not necessary...doing stuff like that won't solve a thing...and i think that a point has been made...i'm not sure what it is...but it's been made none the less...no need to torture the other good people at that company any further...if john did really exist and it was not some virus then i'm sure he's been dealt with...stay safe out there...and keep the peace)
THE E-MAIL THAT HAS BEEN SENT OUT USING OUR COMPANY'S DOMAIN NAME IS A VIRUS
THAT HAS MALICIOUSLY ATTACKED OUR WEBSITE. WE REFUTE COMPLETELY THE COMMENTS
THAT HAVE BEEN MADE AND APOLOGISE FOR ANY UPSET THAT IT MAY HAVE CAUSED.
WE THANK YOU MOST SINCERELY FOR ALERTING US TO THIS SITUATION AND ARE
PRESENTLY DOING OUR UTMOST TO RECTIFY THE DAMAGE THAT THIS ATTACK HAS
CAUSED.
THANKING YOU FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING,
MARK & CHAPPELL LTD
(although i do thank many of you for watching my back...the death threats towards john are a bit much...the best response so far was from my bro in aussie land who was going to fax john some gay porn right to the office...very funny but not necessary...doing stuff like that won't solve a thing...and i think that a point has been made...i'm not sure what it is...but it's been made none the less...no need to torture the other good people at that company any further...if john did really exist and it was not some virus then i'm sure he's been dealt with...stay safe out there...and keep the peace)
9.03.2003
my soldiers are starting to get lackadaisical on me...i'm a pretty friendly guy...i like to joke...i like to laugh...i like to mess with them...but then they start to get to comfortable...they are both young privates...and they aren't able to distinguish the line that must be drawn within our relationship...that takes time...some n.c.o.'s never even try to relate to their soldiers...they are always hard asses...and unapproachable...i don't think that’s the best way to operate...
leadership is a tricky thing...the army thinks that it can be taught in classes...that it can be passed down like an old moldy book...with all the answers...that's so bogus...the promotions system in the army is not based on merit...it is based on numbers...it looks good when 'so many' troops were promoted in the field...troops don't get promoted because they have demonstrated a rigid leadership quality...they get promoted to fill a slot...and more often then not...they are horrible leaders...who have delusions of grandure over thier ability to lead because of their recent promotion..."why would they promote me if they didn't think i was the bomb"...
i was shoved into my first 'board'...a board is like a panel of senior n.c.o.'s that drills the perspective n.c.o. with questions relating to general army knowledge...it's a joke and it needs to be reformed...you are awarded so many 'points' for attending the board...then you are given points based on some other criteria...like military education(which you can cheat your ass off to accomplish)...civilian education...awards...and a few other things...then your points are put into a giant index with all the other soldiers...and another panel of senior n.c.o.'s says something to the affect of..."we should promote 10 sergeants this month"...then the points are changed to allow the next 10 soldiers to get promoted...the regulate the promotions from some big building...they aren't in the field...they have no idea who the soldier is or what he or she is capable of...
at my first board...i was still so green and nervous...and clearly not ready to be a leader of my own team with only 3 years in the army...but there i was any way...i made the cutoff with a score of 403 points...coincidently the points dropped to a very strange score of 402...thanks...that one was for me...
emotionally i was not ready to lead...i would have done more damage then good...i was not hungry for it...i was not capable...and i got myself in trouble...i lost all of it...my promotable status...my p.l.d.c. date (practical leadership and development course)...and all my points...i was at square one...and i wasn’t even allowed to go back to the board for a years time...so i had plenty of longs days to think about my mistakes...
i know now...at least i'm pretty confident...that i can do a good job...i was ready this time...and sometimes doing a good job means stepping out of the 'battle buddy' role...and into the angry father role...soldier number 2 decided to leave the shelter last night and head back to the tent...he walked all the way home...it probably took him about 20 minutes...a while after he left...i turned around and noticed that he had forgotten his weapon...
i'm a pretty fair sergeant...i understand that mistakes happen...i will never scream at a soldier for a simple mistake...unless...it's about a weapon...because mistakes like that get no second chances...in the past 3 weeks we have had 2 lost weapons in our company...and i will not have the third soldier be one of mine...what if he were to walk out of the chow hall and leave his weapon behind...walk all the way back to his tent change...get in the rack...and then realize..."oh shit"...to little to late...
i smoked the puke out of him...because that's what it takes...if you don't want a soldier to forget something important...well then you just make it impossible to forget...for the rest of his life he will remember when i smoked his bags in baghdad because he left his weapon in the shelter and wondered off to the cot...
i usually feel like crap after i smoke one of my soldiers...because they are motivated...and they know they screwed up...and i am very lucky to have 2 soldiers that even give a shit...because so many now a days don't...i know i didn't for a long period of time...6 years changes a person...
luckily i had those n.c.o.'s over me that taught me that the best type of leadership is the kind that creates a feeling with in your soldiers that makes them want to do a good job...not because of fear of repercussion...or to barely meet the standerd so that they won't get yelled at...but to do a good job so that they will not let their n.c.o. down...that's when you know you've created a team...when your soldier are more worried about you getting in trouble over something stupid that they've done...then they are about themselves...
i'm lucky...i don't think my soldiers will screw up again...i am worried though...because i do leave here in the next few weeks...and when i am gone it will be up to them to accomplish the mission...they are going to learn so much...but in today’s military...sometimes being tossed into the fire is the only way you'll gain the experience you'll need to step up and be a leader yourself...i can only hope that the training i have given them will be enough...only time will tell...
i don't have the patience to even respond to this guy...so why don't some of you...
From :
"John Mullen"
Reply-To :
jmullan@markandchappell.com
To :
moja_vera@hotmail.com
Subject :
web blog
Date :
Wed, 03 Sep 2003 13:04:57 +0000
I know Americans dont fully grasp irony but I refer you to what was posted in the blog 02/09/2003
it's a strange trip of fate when a white male is discriminated against...
"i felt like i was the terrorist"...
I have two points to make
1. You are the fucking terrorist
2. You are white trash
You will get so fucked up in Iraq you wont even be able to wipe your ass afterwords
Awaiting Americas destruction patiently
(an irony is when the exact opposite of what you expect to happen occurs...so here's an irony for you john...you sent me this hate mail from your work account at your office...and i get over 3,000 hits a day...most of the people who read my journal love me too...i've got their emails to back that up...as well as yours...say hi to your bosses for me [this is where i laugh diabolically])
leadership is a tricky thing...the army thinks that it can be taught in classes...that it can be passed down like an old moldy book...with all the answers...that's so bogus...the promotions system in the army is not based on merit...it is based on numbers...it looks good when 'so many' troops were promoted in the field...troops don't get promoted because they have demonstrated a rigid leadership quality...they get promoted to fill a slot...and more often then not...they are horrible leaders...who have delusions of grandure over thier ability to lead because of their recent promotion..."why would they promote me if they didn't think i was the bomb"...
i was shoved into my first 'board'...a board is like a panel of senior n.c.o.'s that drills the perspective n.c.o. with questions relating to general army knowledge...it's a joke and it needs to be reformed...you are awarded so many 'points' for attending the board...then you are given points based on some other criteria...like military education(which you can cheat your ass off to accomplish)...civilian education...awards...and a few other things...then your points are put into a giant index with all the other soldiers...and another panel of senior n.c.o.'s says something to the affect of..."we should promote 10 sergeants this month"...then the points are changed to allow the next 10 soldiers to get promoted...the regulate the promotions from some big building...they aren't in the field...they have no idea who the soldier is or what he or she is capable of...
at my first board...i was still so green and nervous...and clearly not ready to be a leader of my own team with only 3 years in the army...but there i was any way...i made the cutoff with a score of 403 points...coincidently the points dropped to a very strange score of 402...thanks...that one was for me...
emotionally i was not ready to lead...i would have done more damage then good...i was not hungry for it...i was not capable...and i got myself in trouble...i lost all of it...my promotable status...my p.l.d.c. date (practical leadership and development course)...and all my points...i was at square one...and i wasn’t even allowed to go back to the board for a years time...so i had plenty of longs days to think about my mistakes...
i know now...at least i'm pretty confident...that i can do a good job...i was ready this time...and sometimes doing a good job means stepping out of the 'battle buddy' role...and into the angry father role...soldier number 2 decided to leave the shelter last night and head back to the tent...he walked all the way home...it probably took him about 20 minutes...a while after he left...i turned around and noticed that he had forgotten his weapon...
i'm a pretty fair sergeant...i understand that mistakes happen...i will never scream at a soldier for a simple mistake...unless...it's about a weapon...because mistakes like that get no second chances...in the past 3 weeks we have had 2 lost weapons in our company...and i will not have the third soldier be one of mine...what if he were to walk out of the chow hall and leave his weapon behind...walk all the way back to his tent change...get in the rack...and then realize..."oh shit"...to little to late...
i smoked the puke out of him...because that's what it takes...if you don't want a soldier to forget something important...well then you just make it impossible to forget...for the rest of his life he will remember when i smoked his bags in baghdad because he left his weapon in the shelter and wondered off to the cot...
i usually feel like crap after i smoke one of my soldiers...because they are motivated...and they know they screwed up...and i am very lucky to have 2 soldiers that even give a shit...because so many now a days don't...i know i didn't for a long period of time...6 years changes a person...
luckily i had those n.c.o.'s over me that taught me that the best type of leadership is the kind that creates a feeling with in your soldiers that makes them want to do a good job...not because of fear of repercussion...or to barely meet the standerd so that they won't get yelled at...but to do a good job so that they will not let their n.c.o. down...that's when you know you've created a team...when your soldier are more worried about you getting in trouble over something stupid that they've done...then they are about themselves...
i'm lucky...i don't think my soldiers will screw up again...i am worried though...because i do leave here in the next few weeks...and when i am gone it will be up to them to accomplish the mission...they are going to learn so much...but in today’s military...sometimes being tossed into the fire is the only way you'll gain the experience you'll need to step up and be a leader yourself...i can only hope that the training i have given them will be enough...only time will tell...
i don't have the patience to even respond to this guy...so why don't some of you...
From :
"John Mullen"
Reply-To :
jmullan@markandchappell.com
To :
moja_vera@hotmail.com
Subject :
web blog
Date :
Wed, 03 Sep 2003 13:04:57 +0000
I know Americans dont fully grasp irony but I refer you to what was posted in the blog 02/09/2003
it's a strange trip of fate when a white male is discriminated against...
"i felt like i was the terrorist"...
I have two points to make
1. You are the fucking terrorist
2. You are white trash
You will get so fucked up in Iraq you wont even be able to wipe your ass afterwords
Awaiting Americas destruction patiently
(an irony is when the exact opposite of what you expect to happen occurs...so here's an irony for you john...you sent me this hate mail from your work account at your office...and i get over 3,000 hits a day...most of the people who read my journal love me too...i've got their emails to back that up...as well as yours...say hi to your bosses for me [this is where i laugh diabolically])
9.01.2003
there was some kind of screaming...i'm in bed...and i'm being waken up by something other then my alarm clock and my girlfriend once more...something bad...not mortars...or explosions...or even small arms fire...but screaming...horrible pain filled sobbing...in a flash i'm up...out the door into the dark...bare foot and shirtless...there's already a crowd forming...others are walking out into the night...the moon is a sliver and barely noticeable...
in the street...i can hear the soldier...he's running...back and forth...other soldiers are starting to circle him...trying to keep him from running off into the woods...he's yelling vicious things...about being shot at...about shooting at other people...about killing his commanders family...and in between every exasperated scream there is a sob...a gut wrenching moan...tear filled...and uncontrolled...
"this soldiers freaking out"...
i've never witnessed a total collapse of a human being before...it was intimidating...and scary...the soldier was truly out of any type of control...and i felt like anything could happen...i begin to worry..."does he have a weapon"...
i'm back inside my tent...my shoes on...out in the street again...my l.t. standing next to me...everyone is trying to move in closer while keeping a safe distance...all of us out here have live ammo...this soldier wouldn't be afraid to use it in his state...he would kill who ever was threatening him...real or perceived...i'm not getting as close as the others...
i can see the short command sergeant major...someone went and woke her...i realize that there is nothing that i can do for this guy...his problems run to deep to be fixed in one night...and i need my sleep...it's 02:45...
back in my cot...i can still hear him...he's screaming to the point of voice failure...he wants to kill someone real bad...his footfalls are loud as he takes off for where ever he's trying to get to...he's so far gone that he doesn't realize that there is no place to go...back and forth...across the street...into the gravel across from the tents...sobbing...from deep within his gut...harder then i've ever cried...
maynerd james keenan once told me at a concert..."what the world needs is to just cry it's eyes out"...there is some truth in that...
his screams start to fade off...he's pulling himself together...and i wonder what started this...what tripped his wire...what set him off...will he be able to put it all back together...
at 06:00 i'm back outside for p.t....it's labor day...and we still have p.t....this war pauses for no holidays...the 1st sergeant puts out that the uniform for this 'long weekend' is p.t.'s at work today...thanks for the moral booster...but you can't ride in a HMMV around here unless you are in D.C.U.'s...and i'm not much for walking when i have a perfectly good truck at my disposal...
as i'm driving into chow...in D.C.U.'s..another 1st sergeant from another unit stops me to tell me that i'm speeding..."your an accident waiting to happen"...i was going 15 miles an hour...to myself i think "i should of worn my p.t.'s"...i'll be sure to just idle around from now on..."roger that 1st sergeant...it won't happen again"...probably because i will be leaving inside of 2 weeks...no more HMMV's for this troop…and no more insanity stricken soldiers at a quarter to 3 in the morning...let the good times roll...
in the street...i can hear the soldier...he's running...back and forth...other soldiers are starting to circle him...trying to keep him from running off into the woods...he's yelling vicious things...about being shot at...about shooting at other people...about killing his commanders family...and in between every exasperated scream there is a sob...a gut wrenching moan...tear filled...and uncontrolled...
"this soldiers freaking out"...
i've never witnessed a total collapse of a human being before...it was intimidating...and scary...the soldier was truly out of any type of control...and i felt like anything could happen...i begin to worry..."does he have a weapon"...
i'm back inside my tent...my shoes on...out in the street again...my l.t. standing next to me...everyone is trying to move in closer while keeping a safe distance...all of us out here have live ammo...this soldier wouldn't be afraid to use it in his state...he would kill who ever was threatening him...real or perceived...i'm not getting as close as the others...
i can see the short command sergeant major...someone went and woke her...i realize that there is nothing that i can do for this guy...his problems run to deep to be fixed in one night...and i need my sleep...it's 02:45...
back in my cot...i can still hear him...he's screaming to the point of voice failure...he wants to kill someone real bad...his footfalls are loud as he takes off for where ever he's trying to get to...he's so far gone that he doesn't realize that there is no place to go...back and forth...across the street...into the gravel across from the tents...sobbing...from deep within his gut...harder then i've ever cried...
maynerd james keenan once told me at a concert..."what the world needs is to just cry it's eyes out"...there is some truth in that...
his screams start to fade off...he's pulling himself together...and i wonder what started this...what tripped his wire...what set him off...will he be able to put it all back together...
at 06:00 i'm back outside for p.t....it's labor day...and we still have p.t....this war pauses for no holidays...the 1st sergeant puts out that the uniform for this 'long weekend' is p.t.'s at work today...thanks for the moral booster...but you can't ride in a HMMV around here unless you are in D.C.U.'s...and i'm not much for walking when i have a perfectly good truck at my disposal...
as i'm driving into chow...in D.C.U.'s..another 1st sergeant from another unit stops me to tell me that i'm speeding..."your an accident waiting to happen"...i was going 15 miles an hour...to myself i think "i should of worn my p.t.'s"...i'll be sure to just idle around from now on..."roger that 1st sergeant...it won't happen again"...probably because i will be leaving inside of 2 weeks...no more HMMV's for this troop…and no more insanity stricken soldiers at a quarter to 3 in the morning...let the good times roll...
8.31.2003
my soldier just returned from his r'n'r trip to doha quatar...he said it was an experience...they were allowed to leave the compound and go out into the city...they were not allowed to go to any of the hotels that serve alcohol because al quada had been testing the reaction time in which the m.p.'s could arrive on the scene...he didn't say how they had been testing...
he went to a mall...and walked around with a friend...as he walked past families...parents pulled their children closer...and little kids ran away...they were afraid of him..."i felt like a monster"...a security guard followed them as if they were going to destroy everyone within a 30 foot radius...reinforcements were called...and my soldier spent the rest of his time in the mall being tailed by 3 security guys...arabs eyeing them...scornfully...he said everyone stared him down...and the tension level of any room they went into rose upon their entrance...the record scratches to a halt...cricket...cricket...a tumbleweed blowing past the screen shot...
it's a strange trip of fate when a white male is discriminated against...
"i felt like i was the terrorist"...
he went to a mall...and walked around with a friend...as he walked past families...parents pulled their children closer...and little kids ran away...they were afraid of him..."i felt like a monster"...a security guard followed them as if they were going to destroy everyone within a 30 foot radius...reinforcements were called...and my soldier spent the rest of his time in the mall being tailed by 3 security guys...arabs eyeing them...scornfully...he said everyone stared him down...and the tension level of any room they went into rose upon their entrance...the record scratches to a halt...cricket...cricket...a tumbleweed blowing past the screen shot...
it's a strange trip of fate when a white male is discriminated against...
"i felt like i was the terrorist"...
while salam and river are duking it out over car bombers and the future of this here iraq...i followed some links off of his page...i ended up reading a site that is sure to bring the unhappiness of allah upon you...please take with a large grain of salt and maybe a prozac or two...ecstasy wouldn't hurt if you are among very faint of heart...
i read through the whole thing...it is blatantly strange to say the least...it's written from the perspective of fundamentalist allah...i found myself laughing out loud a few times...which i promptly felt like shit for...but it was funny...maybe i only find it humorous because i am a stupid white man...and an american 'zionist' to boot...but it was hard to call the guy ignorant of islam...because he evidently knows his stuff...
humor is the only thing that has got me through the last few months...if i didn't have that wall i could erect at a moments notice to protect that inner child who is scared shitless...i very likely would of ended up 4 socks short of a pinnacle game...in a world of perpetual political correctness we suck the earth dry of the truth and it's humor...i guess that happens when we grow daily in our attachment to others with the ease of the internet and mainstream television...your views will be heard...if you want them to be...just look at wittle ol' me...sitting here in iraq...bored out of mind daily...typing away on this key 'bored' simply because i have nothing else to do...i mean...seriously...how many times a day can i check my email...well that number is well into the 100's...trust me...
i once read that all humor is derived from suffering...think about it...what makes you laugh...you might surprise yourself with the answer...
everyone’s view point is important...and necessary...but should your views control others and theirs...should books be banned from libraries...should joe lieberman turn off your radio...should funda 'mental' ist muslims wish to attack unveiled women with snakes...
i think it all boils down to individual values...christians are notorious for imposing their views on people of the south...which is where i'm from..."WOWZERS...this jesus stuff is so good...everybody should be doing it..i'll see that they all praise you Lawd"...they are quick to forget about your view...well...because you're wrong...even here in the military...we open up every formation with a prayer...i'm not religious...in fact i'm quite the opposite...but that's a whole nother story...but some how i just feel wrong...being involved in a mass christian prayer...while in the american military...in a war...with an M-16 strapped to my back...after we just kicked the dookie out of predominantly islamic country...it's that whole 'us' vs 'them' thing again...no wonder we've been lumped into a giant 'zionist' category...i understand that religion gives people strength and i'm all for that...i believe in finding that within the world which creates a sense of meaning...but not at the expense of the ideals and beliefs of those around you...
i've had quite a few people point out to me their beliefs in why the religion of islam is experiencing so much turmoil...they say they are still in the middle of their dark ages...islam is about 600 years behind christianity...chronologically...which in the expanse of everything is nothing...but with the time period of a culture...it could be the majority factor...where were we 600 years ago..or even 300...christians were still burning people at the stake...witch craft was still a very real problem...the inquisitions...the crusades...and don't even get me started on 'excommunication'...holy crap balls...
now look at a religion that is ancient in comparison to mainstream christianity...or funda 'mental' ist islam...like shinto...or tibetian buddhism...religions that are at peace with all and everything...i'm not preaching here...but these are things that i've noticed...i'm sure that my view is quite different from yours...but then again i won't attack you with a poisonous snake because of it...(except for all those kamikazi's right...i can hear you guys saying it...so no need to email me about it)
it's all such a shame that the religions of abraham get along like rodney king and the l.a.p.d....they should be closer then everyone else...in the first 20 pages of the koran...it embraces christianity and judaism...but that's probably the part that gets forgotten...like the 'thou shalt not kill' line in the bible...easy mistakes...hard consequences...
we are just so quick to point at others and say "see..see...look how crazy your acting...don't you get it"...when in all actuality maybe we are the ones who are missing the point...people will get tired of fighting...wars will be won...cultures will grow...these things happen...they just might not happen quick enough for us...in our life of instant internet gratification...senior iraqi correspondants...and double mocha frapachinos...patience truly is a virtue...
i read through the whole thing...it is blatantly strange to say the least...it's written from the perspective of fundamentalist allah...i found myself laughing out loud a few times...which i promptly felt like shit for...but it was funny...maybe i only find it humorous because i am a stupid white man...and an american 'zionist' to boot...but it was hard to call the guy ignorant of islam...because he evidently knows his stuff...
humor is the only thing that has got me through the last few months...if i didn't have that wall i could erect at a moments notice to protect that inner child who is scared shitless...i very likely would of ended up 4 socks short of a pinnacle game...in a world of perpetual political correctness we suck the earth dry of the truth and it's humor...i guess that happens when we grow daily in our attachment to others with the ease of the internet and mainstream television...your views will be heard...if you want them to be...just look at wittle ol' me...sitting here in iraq...bored out of mind daily...typing away on this key 'bored' simply because i have nothing else to do...i mean...seriously...how many times a day can i check my email...well that number is well into the 100's...trust me...
i once read that all humor is derived from suffering...think about it...what makes you laugh...you might surprise yourself with the answer...
everyone’s view point is important...and necessary...but should your views control others and theirs...should books be banned from libraries...should joe lieberman turn off your radio...should funda 'mental' ist muslims wish to attack unveiled women with snakes...
i think it all boils down to individual values...christians are notorious for imposing their views on people of the south...which is where i'm from..."WOWZERS...this jesus stuff is so good...everybody should be doing it..i'll see that they all praise you Lawd"...they are quick to forget about your view...well...because you're wrong...even here in the military...we open up every formation with a prayer...i'm not religious...in fact i'm quite the opposite...but that's a whole nother story...but some how i just feel wrong...being involved in a mass christian prayer...while in the american military...in a war...with an M-16 strapped to my back...after we just kicked the dookie out of predominantly islamic country...it's that whole 'us' vs 'them' thing again...no wonder we've been lumped into a giant 'zionist' category...i understand that religion gives people strength and i'm all for that...i believe in finding that within the world which creates a sense of meaning...but not at the expense of the ideals and beliefs of those around you...
i've had quite a few people point out to me their beliefs in why the religion of islam is experiencing so much turmoil...they say they are still in the middle of their dark ages...islam is about 600 years behind christianity...chronologically...which in the expanse of everything is nothing...but with the time period of a culture...it could be the majority factor...where were we 600 years ago..or even 300...christians were still burning people at the stake...witch craft was still a very real problem...the inquisitions...the crusades...and don't even get me started on 'excommunication'...holy crap balls...
now look at a religion that is ancient in comparison to mainstream christianity...or funda 'mental' ist islam...like shinto...or tibetian buddhism...religions that are at peace with all and everything...i'm not preaching here...but these are things that i've noticed...i'm sure that my view is quite different from yours...but then again i won't attack you with a poisonous snake because of it...(except for all those kamikazi's right...i can hear you guys saying it...so no need to email me about it)
it's all such a shame that the religions of abraham get along like rodney king and the l.a.p.d....they should be closer then everyone else...in the first 20 pages of the koran...it embraces christianity and judaism...but that's probably the part that gets forgotten...like the 'thou shalt not kill' line in the bible...easy mistakes...hard consequences...
we are just so quick to point at others and say "see..see...look how crazy your acting...don't you get it"...when in all actuality maybe we are the ones who are missing the point...people will get tired of fighting...wars will be won...cultures will grow...these things happen...they just might not happen quick enough for us...in our life of instant internet gratification...senior iraqi correspondants...and double mocha frapachinos...patience truly is a virtue...
8.30.2003
everything is relative...i sound like a broken record...but nothing is more true...i was out at another compound...all out and gone in the middle of the desert...the similarities to afghanistan caused me stop and take notice...it felt like deja vu...green tents...not the kind with frames that i have now...but the kind with big poles in the center...they were every where...their sides rolled up because they have no a/c...they were pitched right in the middle of the moon dust dirt...not a tree in sight...or even a bush...just dirt...and more dirt...mud brick buildings everywhere...bombed out warehouses...with soldiers living in the undamaged areas...clothes hanging to dry in the dust...soldiers in every inch of shade...bunkers dug into the earth covered with plywood and sand bags...brick walls...and guard towers wrapped in camoflage...
i stood out side my HMMV...gawking...eager to return to my compound...a strange feeling...because i hate it here...but i have always been aware of just how good we do have it...my young soldiers on the other hand...they have no experience to compare anything with...i can only hope they never get the chance to see how the other half lives...
there are no mountains here...as far as i can see...a big difference from the jagged horizon of kandahar...the mountains there looked like no others that i have ever seen...america has a large rolling skyline in comparison...and the swiss alps are just immense in contrast...
the land is so flat...it's just amazing how quickly the land changes the closer you get to the tigris...towards the inner city...the roads starts to roll with hills...and the expressway is lush and green...on the way to BIAP...the shrubbery was actually burned away so that I.E.D.'s could not be hidden with in the bushes...
on our way back from one of the other compounds...we took a wrong turn...and we were lost for a few minutes...i'm freaking out on the inside...but i've got the game face on...inside i'm shaking because i know this is how people get killed in this country...or kidnapped...and i don't want to be a hostage...so i tighten up on the grip of the rifle...i'm steering with the wrong hand...reaching up and over my weapon...iraqis are eyeing us hard...stopping their work...pointing...i don't see to many smiles or waves...we eventually get back on the right road and head for home...i will not miss that feeling...
we are barricading this country up...with giant concrete walls...we truck them in piece by piece...like a puzzle...they use cranes to off load them and set them upright...there are at least 15 feet tall...and they look like they could with stand an A bomb...nothing is getting past them...at some of the check points...iraqi masons are laying down foundations...permanent structures will soon be there...
the roads are pot marked with deep craters...cluster bombs...most of them are about the size of basketballs...but there are a few that are much larger...the masons are laying concrete down in those as well...
after a full day of driving...we get back on post...and i never thought in a 1000 years that i would be glad to get back to this sticking palace...relatively speaking...it's not so bad...but it sure as hell ain't home...
i stood out side my HMMV...gawking...eager to return to my compound...a strange feeling...because i hate it here...but i have always been aware of just how good we do have it...my young soldiers on the other hand...they have no experience to compare anything with...i can only hope they never get the chance to see how the other half lives...
there are no mountains here...as far as i can see...a big difference from the jagged horizon of kandahar...the mountains there looked like no others that i have ever seen...america has a large rolling skyline in comparison...and the swiss alps are just immense in contrast...
the land is so flat...it's just amazing how quickly the land changes the closer you get to the tigris...towards the inner city...the roads starts to roll with hills...and the expressway is lush and green...on the way to BIAP...the shrubbery was actually burned away so that I.E.D.'s could not be hidden with in the bushes...
on our way back from one of the other compounds...we took a wrong turn...and we were lost for a few minutes...i'm freaking out on the inside...but i've got the game face on...inside i'm shaking because i know this is how people get killed in this country...or kidnapped...and i don't want to be a hostage...so i tighten up on the grip of the rifle...i'm steering with the wrong hand...reaching up and over my weapon...iraqis are eyeing us hard...stopping their work...pointing...i don't see to many smiles or waves...we eventually get back on the right road and head for home...i will not miss that feeling...
we are barricading this country up...with giant concrete walls...we truck them in piece by piece...like a puzzle...they use cranes to off load them and set them upright...there are at least 15 feet tall...and they look like they could with stand an A bomb...nothing is getting past them...at some of the check points...iraqi masons are laying down foundations...permanent structures will soon be there...
the roads are pot marked with deep craters...cluster bombs...most of them are about the size of basketballs...but there are a few that are much larger...the masons are laying concrete down in those as well...
after a full day of driving...we get back on post...and i never thought in a 1000 years that i would be glad to get back to this sticking palace...relatively speaking...it's not so bad...but it sure as hell ain't home...
more convoy madness...pictures...
8.29.2003
I started to write yesterday…but I think I was on some kind of sensory over load from the convoy two days ago…I needed time to take it all in…I wanted to write about the presidential palace…but there was just so much going on in every direction…I didn’t even know where to begin…today the internet is down for the count…and I’m not sure when it is going to come back up…so you might see a few capitalized words…you can thank Microsoft spell checker…grammar and punctuation just slow me down…and I’m way to busy doing nothing to be bothered…
at the doors of the palace there are filipino guards in tan uniforms...i think they are part of a civilian security company...brought in by the u.s....i recognize the uniforms...they had them in doha...but in kuwait they were americans...guarding all the gates to doha and arifjan…I read yesterday that close to a third of the billion dollars a week that we are spending out here goes straight into contractors pockets…I can believe it…we’ve got some civilian dudes out here who are doing my exact job as contractors…they are each getting paid $120,000 a year…they’re both 26 years old…the money is out there…but money isn’t everything…
the filipino guards speak tagolog and they give us ice cold water bottles from their cooler...big friendly smiles under their boony caps…they’ve each got M-16’s and desert boots…we have to be escorted in because of our lack of appropriate badges…the point of contact guy ushers as past the guards and into the amazement of the palace…we were told that the palace we are from was for fun…this one is for business…
inside the presidential palace the marble floors are unending...intricate geometrical designs in white grey and black stone...when you look up at the front door...the ceiling is in 3-d...it's a reverse pyramid...with wooden tiles at 1 foot intervals...dark wood...green marble...and ivory borders...there are arabic words...which in themselves are art...the cost to make this ceiling is more then i will make in my life...saddam spared no expense…I guess I can thank the Iraqi people for this beauty…it’s a shame most will never get to see it…
there are couches every where…nice leather black ones…and there are an assortment of soldiers and important looking officials reclining…a few are asleep and unknowingly getting their pictures taken…it’s not everyday you see majors and lieutenant colonels sleeping on the job…there is a concession stand selling Iraqi juice and cigarettes…candies and coffee…I can see young Iraqi males sweeping and mopping the unending marble floors…they are wearing white button down shirts and pants…their back pockets are stuffed with great stacks of Iraqi money…I wonder if I should tell them about the exchange rate…
there is a make shift deli set up…it’s being stocked by more local nationals…they are filling refrigerators with sodas…there is a sign that says…’free sodas-limit 2 per person’…where the walls meet the floor…there are lines of LAN cable and phone wires…running off in every direction…I remember hearing about the problem that the ‘cable dogs’ where going to have trying to run cable through these palaces…the walls are a foot thick…
if you forget to look up once in a while you miss out on half of the palace…saddam had a thing for ceilings…and they are all immaculate…the guide tells us…”if it looks like gold…it is gold”…there are golden plates and knobs and handles every where…I don’t believe it…maybe gold plated…but then again…I’ve never had the fortune of a nation to squander…so it could very well be gold…I knock on one the plates…the test yields me no results leading to a conclusive answer to my gold question…I just have to take it at face value…
I notice at around this time…that I’m kind of chilly…I’m drenched in sweat from the ride over…a flak jacket does not allow for good air flow around the body…and now I’m cooling off…the power of the a/c’s running over time in this place is enough to boggle the mind…1000’s upon 1000’s of BTU’s of air cooling goodness…
We step into a bigger room…more like a hall…and there they are…real beds…as far as I can see off in either direction…some of our guys that were set up over here actually made out with a few of them…which they brought back with them…they wouldn’t sell them for 100 bucks…I wouldn’t either…there are lots of Iraqis lounging on beds that are not claimed…I can see british and American soldiers…trying desperately to sleep through the day…night shift waits for no one…there is a gym…complete with real equipment…I’m so used to seeing improvised benches and bar bells that the real deal strikes me as out of place…the stair ways are roped off at the banisters…they wind up and around disappearing into the second floor…
British troops are every where…stopped in the halls…conversating with American civilians…moving out briskly…paper work in hand…
Our guide shows us to the ‘internet café’…he boasts about it and tries to show it off like we’ve never seen such a thing…I play along…I ask what a NIPR is…”I’ve heard of these…man what I wouldn’t give to check my hotmail”…if he only knew…I spend about 8 hours of my day online…your tax dollars at work…thank you very much…
As we walk by offices…I sneak looks inside…there are well dressed Iraqis…in business suits…males and females alike…many of the females are not wearing any kind of veil…they are chatting at the proverbial water cooler…or typing away behind computer screens…most of them are young…my age…what a job that must be…no matter what your political beliefs…you’ve got yourself a job in the Iraqi white house…especially when jobs are so scarce that people just wander the streets begging for work…
I know that we pay the skilled labor on this compound 40 bucks a week…those are the engineers and the electricians…the unskilled get about $15…I wonder what these office jockeys get…
Up on the roof…the ‘saddam god heads’ are enormous…his moustache is twice as big as I am…there are ladders set up so that you can climb up onto his nose…I don’t risk it…if I look out towards the front of the palace I can see devastation and carnage…bombed out buildings…bigger then any we have on this compound…I can see the tuna can building…or the ‘tomb of the unknown soldier’ as it’s officially called...it’s beautiful…I can also make out the stadium…with it’s huge lighting towers…
Towards the back of the palace…I can see trailers…white ones…like what they have in doha…troops live in these…they have bathrooms and their own a/c’s…they are real buildings…I can’t even remember what it feels like to sleep in doors…or to use a toilet…it pays to be important…which I am not…
The palm trees and vegetation are a dull green and tan which contrasts well with the aqua of the tigris…the sky line looks like that of any other city that I have seen…brown buildings…billboards…bridges with vehicles passing over them…they all would be interchangeable…well maybe except for Venice…nothing can compare to Venice in the spring time…go before it sinks…
back at the front gate…people are waiting…armed American soldiers…in full battle rattle…they give us the nod…the gate is big and black…the walls are 10 foot high and they disappear off into the distance…there are television production people sitting on benches in the shade…their hats resting on their cameras…waiting for the scoop or the story…there appear to be Iraqis in uniform sitting at a desk…I wonder if they could be part of the new Iraqi police force…
the parking lot across the street is an assortment of all types…military N.T.V.’s (exhibitions and suburbans)…red cross trucks…little import types…chevy’s…and Toyotas…one arab man is passed out in the front seat of his s.u.v….his door is open and he is blasting Robbie Williams…his mouth is open…we spot another Iraqi…walking past cars and looking through windows…I think he was trying to rip some one off…
at the doors of the palace there are filipino guards in tan uniforms...i think they are part of a civilian security company...brought in by the u.s....i recognize the uniforms...they had them in doha...but in kuwait they were americans...guarding all the gates to doha and arifjan…I read yesterday that close to a third of the billion dollars a week that we are spending out here goes straight into contractors pockets…I can believe it…we’ve got some civilian dudes out here who are doing my exact job as contractors…they are each getting paid $120,000 a year…they’re both 26 years old…the money is out there…but money isn’t everything…
the filipino guards speak tagolog and they give us ice cold water bottles from their cooler...big friendly smiles under their boony caps…they’ve each got M-16’s and desert boots…we have to be escorted in because of our lack of appropriate badges…the point of contact guy ushers as past the guards and into the amazement of the palace…we were told that the palace we are from was for fun…this one is for business…
inside the presidential palace the marble floors are unending...intricate geometrical designs in white grey and black stone...when you look up at the front door...the ceiling is in 3-d...it's a reverse pyramid...with wooden tiles at 1 foot intervals...dark wood...green marble...and ivory borders...there are arabic words...which in themselves are art...the cost to make this ceiling is more then i will make in my life...saddam spared no expense…I guess I can thank the Iraqi people for this beauty…it’s a shame most will never get to see it…
there are couches every where…nice leather black ones…and there are an assortment of soldiers and important looking officials reclining…a few are asleep and unknowingly getting their pictures taken…it’s not everyday you see majors and lieutenant colonels sleeping on the job…there is a concession stand selling Iraqi juice and cigarettes…candies and coffee…I can see young Iraqi males sweeping and mopping the unending marble floors…they are wearing white button down shirts and pants…their back pockets are stuffed with great stacks of Iraqi money…I wonder if I should tell them about the exchange rate…
there is a make shift deli set up…it’s being stocked by more local nationals…they are filling refrigerators with sodas…there is a sign that says…’free sodas-limit 2 per person’…where the walls meet the floor…there are lines of LAN cable and phone wires…running off in every direction…I remember hearing about the problem that the ‘cable dogs’ where going to have trying to run cable through these palaces…the walls are a foot thick…
if you forget to look up once in a while you miss out on half of the palace…saddam had a thing for ceilings…and they are all immaculate…the guide tells us…”if it looks like gold…it is gold”…there are golden plates and knobs and handles every where…I don’t believe it…maybe gold plated…but then again…I’ve never had the fortune of a nation to squander…so it could very well be gold…I knock on one the plates…the test yields me no results leading to a conclusive answer to my gold question…I just have to take it at face value…
I notice at around this time…that I’m kind of chilly…I’m drenched in sweat from the ride over…a flak jacket does not allow for good air flow around the body…and now I’m cooling off…the power of the a/c’s running over time in this place is enough to boggle the mind…1000’s upon 1000’s of BTU’s of air cooling goodness…
We step into a bigger room…more like a hall…and there they are…real beds…as far as I can see off in either direction…some of our guys that were set up over here actually made out with a few of them…which they brought back with them…they wouldn’t sell them for 100 bucks…I wouldn’t either…there are lots of Iraqis lounging on beds that are not claimed…I can see british and American soldiers…trying desperately to sleep through the day…night shift waits for no one…there is a gym…complete with real equipment…I’m so used to seeing improvised benches and bar bells that the real deal strikes me as out of place…the stair ways are roped off at the banisters…they wind up and around disappearing into the second floor…
British troops are every where…stopped in the halls…conversating with American civilians…moving out briskly…paper work in hand…
Our guide shows us to the ‘internet café’…he boasts about it and tries to show it off like we’ve never seen such a thing…I play along…I ask what a NIPR is…”I’ve heard of these…man what I wouldn’t give to check my hotmail”…if he only knew…I spend about 8 hours of my day online…your tax dollars at work…thank you very much…
As we walk by offices…I sneak looks inside…there are well dressed Iraqis…in business suits…males and females alike…many of the females are not wearing any kind of veil…they are chatting at the proverbial water cooler…or typing away behind computer screens…most of them are young…my age…what a job that must be…no matter what your political beliefs…you’ve got yourself a job in the Iraqi white house…especially when jobs are so scarce that people just wander the streets begging for work…
I know that we pay the skilled labor on this compound 40 bucks a week…those are the engineers and the electricians…the unskilled get about $15…I wonder what these office jockeys get…
Up on the roof…the ‘saddam god heads’ are enormous…his moustache is twice as big as I am…there are ladders set up so that you can climb up onto his nose…I don’t risk it…if I look out towards the front of the palace I can see devastation and carnage…bombed out buildings…bigger then any we have on this compound…I can see the tuna can building…or the ‘tomb of the unknown soldier’ as it’s officially called...it’s beautiful…I can also make out the stadium…with it’s huge lighting towers…
Towards the back of the palace…I can see trailers…white ones…like what they have in doha…troops live in these…they have bathrooms and their own a/c’s…they are real buildings…I can’t even remember what it feels like to sleep in doors…or to use a toilet…it pays to be important…which I am not…
The palm trees and vegetation are a dull green and tan which contrasts well with the aqua of the tigris…the sky line looks like that of any other city that I have seen…brown buildings…billboards…bridges with vehicles passing over them…they all would be interchangeable…well maybe except for Venice…nothing can compare to Venice in the spring time…go before it sinks…
back at the front gate…people are waiting…armed American soldiers…in full battle rattle…they give us the nod…the gate is big and black…the walls are 10 foot high and they disappear off into the distance…there are television production people sitting on benches in the shade…their hats resting on their cameras…waiting for the scoop or the story…there appear to be Iraqis in uniform sitting at a desk…I wonder if they could be part of the new Iraqi police force…
the parking lot across the street is an assortment of all types…military N.T.V.’s (exhibitions and suburbans)…red cross trucks…little import types…chevy’s…and Toyotas…one arab man is passed out in the front seat of his s.u.v….his door is open and he is blasting Robbie Williams…his mouth is open…we spot another Iraqi…walking past cars and looking through windows…I think he was trying to rip some one off…
8.27.2003
my alarm clock...went off early...a freakin' hour early at that...i've dropped/thrown it one to many times...and it doesn't read right anymore...but i make do...
i'm up now with about 4 hours of sleep...late shift last night...i'm dressing...and off in the distance i hear small arms fire...it's 5 in the morning...outside it's pitch black...and i make my way towards my hmmv...in the back ground is the islamic call to prayer...as i sit down in my truck...there are more sounds of shooting off in the distance...and i wonder to myself...does that mean that it's going to be an 'interesting' day...or just an 'ordinary' one...
i'm the first one in line at the chow hall...because no other idiots are up at this time of the day...i'm there about 15 minutes early so i stand outside...i remember that i've got my camera...it's digging into my thigh in my right cargo pocket...with my ammo...so i start taking pictures...i ended up taking quite a lot of my day...the first few didn't turn out very well because of the mixed light of the windows and the darkness out side...but there is one of the signs that litter the walls of our chow hall...i eat rather quickly once they open up...because i've got places to be...
i'm at my van...i load up my magazines...210 rounds...6 in my L.B.V. (load bearing vest)...and one for my rifle...the time comes and i make my way over to the trucks...the l.t. is there and he gives us the brief..."if you are engaged shoot everything and move out"..."if you are engaged by incoming mortars just move out"..."the convoy speed for this mission is keep up"..."are there any questions"...no...
i'm in the back of the truck...sliding around on the troop seat...there are open boxes spilling water bottles out on to the bed...cushions for asses on those long convoys...old m.r.e. wrappers...and me...we have a 'troop strap' which is basically a ratchet strap tied across the back of the truck...it's there to keep troops from falling out...it replaces the seat belt...i'd rather have a seat belt...especially when we are moving at 65 miles an hour...but i do have my kevlar on...
our first stop is BIAP (baghdad international airport)...there are some soldiers going on leave...they get two weeks...soldiers usually only get leave during deployments if the mission is going to be a big long one...this one is...i'm watching the sun rise from the back of my truck...the canvas sides are rolled up...and i have a good view of the air field...and of a palace under construction...it's kind of peaceful in a bouncy noise filled way...my platoon sergeant is a loud guy...who cracks a lot of jokes...i can just barely hear him over the drone of the engine...i'm taking pictures of it all...palm trees...pot holes...10 foot walls...iraqi truckers...check points...it's grey outside with the horizon lighting up orange and yellow...there is a cool wind...
we drop the soldier off...we check his bags...his paper work is straight...there are tents...filled with waiting soldiers and air men...they are sleeping on every flat surface...and some that aren't...they are dirty...and uncomfortable...there are giant t.v.'s broadcasting cnn...there is trouble in israel...what else is new...we say good bye...and we are back in the truck...driving really fast...too fast for me...and i feel helpless back here...
we get back to our compound to drop off the soldiers excess gear...there is a delay...and the l.t. informs us to report back in a few hours for the next leg of our convoy...
at 11...we head back out to BIAP...this time i'm driving...and we mix up the root...we have to stay unpredictable...because they are watching...we pass check points...with tired soldiers waving us through...there are iraqi kids sitting on the sand bags in the middle of the road...talking to their g.i. friends...men try to sell me cold soda and juice...my soldier...the heat baby...is with me this time...he points out where all the 'trading' is done...he comes out here a lot on details...he's going on r'n'r...someplace where the beer flows like wine...he's excited...it's an adventure...
since i'm driving i don't feel as helpless...we hit 70 mph...the needle in the hmmv starts to wrap back around towards 0...it only goes to 60...driving fast is fun...and i'm sure my truck has never been driven like this before...there are so many people on the road way...caravans and convoys...of all types...there are n.t.v.'s (non tactical vehicles)...suburbans and brand new exhibitions...who do i talk to if i want one of those...
we drop off the r'n'r soldiers...i tell my heat baby to call me when he's good and drunk...he says he will...
now we lock and load...we chamber a round...the rifle barrels out the windows...pointing at nothing in particular...we don't want to be seen as a 'soft target'...armored hmmv's with gun turrets and 50 caliber crew serve weapons are 'hard targets'...we have canvas doors...a drivers side rifle operated by a driver who is driving and a passenger side rifle being operated by a right handed guy pointing the weapon lefty...hard targets...we head down town...very fast...my truck has trouble keeping up with the l.t.'s...there are cars of all types on the road...orange white 'taxis'...chevy cavaliers...pick up trucks...we pass u.s. patrols under over passes...and m.p.'s parked at intersections...i see graffiti on an over pass that says "u.s. go home"...it's been X'd out in bright blue paint...
i'm sweating profusely under my flak jacket and kevlar...the sweat is dripping down my nose...and my back hurts...
on the expressway...off to our next stop...the presidential palace...or ACPA...i have no idea what that stands for...it used to be ORHA...there are 'saddam god head' statues...4 of them...they are impressive...the building is immaculate...outside the gate there are reporters...iraqi and foreign...waiting for who knows what...there are iraqi woman...going to work in side the palace...they are beautiful...i try not to stare...i fail...the soldier at the gate gives us a little bit of a hassle getting in...we need some kind of badge that we didn't know about...we assure him that we will get it...and we have urgent business..."we're the signal guys and we've got stuff on the roof"..."alright go on in"...we track down our point of contact...and ground our gear...the p.o.c. gives us the tour...i've been here before...but that was 4 months ago and a lot has changed...there are civilians every where...american and iraqi...iraq is being run from this building...or this building is attempting to run iraq...i don't know which one is more true...
our guide gives us the 50 cent tour...he shows us the chow hall...and the coffee shop...the movie theater...and the weight room...the people here have real beds with mattresses and sheets...i can't even remember what that feels like...it's really cool inside the palace...the a/c is pumping...outside we climb service stairs to the roof...we take another ladder and then we are as high as you can get...and there it is...all around me...baghdad...the tigris...there are roads and highways...hotels...apartment buildings...bombed out wreckage...and people...i can see people on the other side of the river...ordinary people doing what ordinary people do...it's all the same...no matter where you are in the world...and i am in baghdad, iraq...crazy...
apaches circle us...i've never seen them this close in the air before...we start our work...i snap some pictures...we all stand for a while in amazement at what is in front of us...who would of ever thought...
back down the ladder...and the service staircase...into the palace...down the marble hall ways...my platoon sergeant calls all the iraqi sweepers and moppers 'Nick'...they smile...and he says "see i told you his name was nick"...i'm looking for bremer...or one of the 'nine puppets'...i don't see them...
we ruck up...and we roll out...this time i get the passenger seat...because driving at 70 mph and taking crappy digital pictures is just to dangerous...we pass an abrahms at a check point...it's colossal...it's supposed to be that way...
we pass a building with a roof like an open can of tuna...it's quite beautiful actually...the architecture is amazing...there is a stadium...with lights...and there are the hands...rising up from the earth...clutching swords...it's a very powerful monument...i believe it is a fair ground...there are beautiful buildings every where...mansions...mosques...this is not home...most assuredly...we are flying in the hmmv's and the iraqis are going even faster...an s.u.v. passes us...and there is a girl in the back seat...she is wearing her scarf over her head...and her whole body is turned to look out the window at me...she is expressionless...her eyes are wide...haunting...i notice that my rifle is pointed at her...i shift it down ward...and we accelerate away from them...she never takes her eyes off of me...
we pass through the next few check points...more kids...perched up on the sand bags...more men and woman sitting by the side of the road...selling drinks...we make it to our gate...inside...at the 'clearing barrel'...i drop my magazine...i stick the muzzle of my rifle into the barrel...i pull the bolt back...the round flies out of the chamber...and i catch it in my hand...
i'm up now with about 4 hours of sleep...late shift last night...i'm dressing...and off in the distance i hear small arms fire...it's 5 in the morning...outside it's pitch black...and i make my way towards my hmmv...in the back ground is the islamic call to prayer...as i sit down in my truck...there are more sounds of shooting off in the distance...and i wonder to myself...does that mean that it's going to be an 'interesting' day...or just an 'ordinary' one...
i'm the first one in line at the chow hall...because no other idiots are up at this time of the day...i'm there about 15 minutes early so i stand outside...i remember that i've got my camera...it's digging into my thigh in my right cargo pocket...with my ammo...so i start taking pictures...i ended up taking quite a lot of my day...the first few didn't turn out very well because of the mixed light of the windows and the darkness out side...but there is one of the signs that litter the walls of our chow hall...i eat rather quickly once they open up...because i've got places to be...
i'm at my van...i load up my magazines...210 rounds...6 in my L.B.V. (load bearing vest)...and one for my rifle...the time comes and i make my way over to the trucks...the l.t. is there and he gives us the brief..."if you are engaged shoot everything and move out"..."if you are engaged by incoming mortars just move out"..."the convoy speed for this mission is keep up"..."are there any questions"...no...
i'm in the back of the truck...sliding around on the troop seat...there are open boxes spilling water bottles out on to the bed...cushions for asses on those long convoys...old m.r.e. wrappers...and me...we have a 'troop strap' which is basically a ratchet strap tied across the back of the truck...it's there to keep troops from falling out...it replaces the seat belt...i'd rather have a seat belt...especially when we are moving at 65 miles an hour...but i do have my kevlar on...
our first stop is BIAP (baghdad international airport)...there are some soldiers going on leave...they get two weeks...soldiers usually only get leave during deployments if the mission is going to be a big long one...this one is...i'm watching the sun rise from the back of my truck...the canvas sides are rolled up...and i have a good view of the air field...and of a palace under construction...it's kind of peaceful in a bouncy noise filled way...my platoon sergeant is a loud guy...who cracks a lot of jokes...i can just barely hear him over the drone of the engine...i'm taking pictures of it all...palm trees...pot holes...10 foot walls...iraqi truckers...check points...it's grey outside with the horizon lighting up orange and yellow...there is a cool wind...
we drop the soldier off...we check his bags...his paper work is straight...there are tents...filled with waiting soldiers and air men...they are sleeping on every flat surface...and some that aren't...they are dirty...and uncomfortable...there are giant t.v.'s broadcasting cnn...there is trouble in israel...what else is new...we say good bye...and we are back in the truck...driving really fast...too fast for me...and i feel helpless back here...
we get back to our compound to drop off the soldiers excess gear...there is a delay...and the l.t. informs us to report back in a few hours for the next leg of our convoy...
at 11...we head back out to BIAP...this time i'm driving...and we mix up the root...we have to stay unpredictable...because they are watching...we pass check points...with tired soldiers waving us through...there are iraqi kids sitting on the sand bags in the middle of the road...talking to their g.i. friends...men try to sell me cold soda and juice...my soldier...the heat baby...is with me this time...he points out where all the 'trading' is done...he comes out here a lot on details...he's going on r'n'r...someplace where the beer flows like wine...he's excited...it's an adventure...
since i'm driving i don't feel as helpless...we hit 70 mph...the needle in the hmmv starts to wrap back around towards 0...it only goes to 60...driving fast is fun...and i'm sure my truck has never been driven like this before...there are so many people on the road way...caravans and convoys...of all types...there are n.t.v.'s (non tactical vehicles)...suburbans and brand new exhibitions...who do i talk to if i want one of those...
we drop off the r'n'r soldiers...i tell my heat baby to call me when he's good and drunk...he says he will...
now we lock and load...we chamber a round...the rifle barrels out the windows...pointing at nothing in particular...we don't want to be seen as a 'soft target'...armored hmmv's with gun turrets and 50 caliber crew serve weapons are 'hard targets'...we have canvas doors...a drivers side rifle operated by a driver who is driving and a passenger side rifle being operated by a right handed guy pointing the weapon lefty...hard targets...we head down town...very fast...my truck has trouble keeping up with the l.t.'s...there are cars of all types on the road...orange white 'taxis'...chevy cavaliers...pick up trucks...we pass u.s. patrols under over passes...and m.p.'s parked at intersections...i see graffiti on an over pass that says "u.s. go home"...it's been X'd out in bright blue paint...
i'm sweating profusely under my flak jacket and kevlar...the sweat is dripping down my nose...and my back hurts...
on the expressway...off to our next stop...the presidential palace...or ACPA...i have no idea what that stands for...it used to be ORHA...there are 'saddam god head' statues...4 of them...they are impressive...the building is immaculate...outside the gate there are reporters...iraqi and foreign...waiting for who knows what...there are iraqi woman...going to work in side the palace...they are beautiful...i try not to stare...i fail...the soldier at the gate gives us a little bit of a hassle getting in...we need some kind of badge that we didn't know about...we assure him that we will get it...and we have urgent business..."we're the signal guys and we've got stuff on the roof"..."alright go on in"...we track down our point of contact...and ground our gear...the p.o.c. gives us the tour...i've been here before...but that was 4 months ago and a lot has changed...there are civilians every where...american and iraqi...iraq is being run from this building...or this building is attempting to run iraq...i don't know which one is more true...
our guide gives us the 50 cent tour...he shows us the chow hall...and the coffee shop...the movie theater...and the weight room...the people here have real beds with mattresses and sheets...i can't even remember what that feels like...it's really cool inside the palace...the a/c is pumping...outside we climb service stairs to the roof...we take another ladder and then we are as high as you can get...and there it is...all around me...baghdad...the tigris...there are roads and highways...hotels...apartment buildings...bombed out wreckage...and people...i can see people on the other side of the river...ordinary people doing what ordinary people do...it's all the same...no matter where you are in the world...and i am in baghdad, iraq...crazy...
apaches circle us...i've never seen them this close in the air before...we start our work...i snap some pictures...we all stand for a while in amazement at what is in front of us...who would of ever thought...
back down the ladder...and the service staircase...into the palace...down the marble hall ways...my platoon sergeant calls all the iraqi sweepers and moppers 'Nick'...they smile...and he says "see i told you his name was nick"...i'm looking for bremer...or one of the 'nine puppets'...i don't see them...
we ruck up...and we roll out...this time i get the passenger seat...because driving at 70 mph and taking crappy digital pictures is just to dangerous...we pass an abrahms at a check point...it's colossal...it's supposed to be that way...
we pass a building with a roof like an open can of tuna...it's quite beautiful actually...the architecture is amazing...there is a stadium...with lights...and there are the hands...rising up from the earth...clutching swords...it's a very powerful monument...i believe it is a fair ground...there are beautiful buildings every where...mansions...mosques...this is not home...most assuredly...we are flying in the hmmv's and the iraqis are going even faster...an s.u.v. passes us...and there is a girl in the back seat...she is wearing her scarf over her head...and her whole body is turned to look out the window at me...she is expressionless...her eyes are wide...haunting...i notice that my rifle is pointed at her...i shift it down ward...and we accelerate away from them...she never takes her eyes off of me...
we pass through the next few check points...more kids...perched up on the sand bags...more men and woman sitting by the side of the road...selling drinks...we make it to our gate...inside...at the 'clearing barrel'...i drop my magazine...i stick the muzzle of my rifle into the barrel...i pull the bolt back...the round flies out of the chamber...and i catch it in my hand...
8.26.2003
i've spent the last 20 minutes trying to fix my M-16...it wasn't feeding ammo correctly...i would try to load up a magazine...but it wouldn't chamber a round...so i took it apart...worked at it...reloaded a different mag...released the bolt a few times...it jammed...i then have to wedge out a round that is lodged...i pull it out...i reload over and over...trying to make it work properly...every time i pulled the bolt back...the round that was in the chamber flies out of my rifle and strikes my equipment...it's loud...as it clatters to the floor of my van...
finally i think i've fixed it...i hope i have...i pull the bolt back...locking it into place...i take the magazine...it's heavy...it slides up into the weapon and locks into place...i'm holding the weapon at my shoulder...in a mock aiming position...pointing it towards my door...i check the safety...it's on...with my thumb i hit the bolt release...and there is that sound...that unmistakable sound...that horrible...bone chilling sound of one of my rounds chambering into the barrel...and i take a step back...i pause as reality strikes me like a 2 x 4...i look at what i am doing...i mean i really look at what i am trying to do...and it scares me...it horrifies me...
what am i doing...
but i have to do this...i have to protect myself...i have to protect my fellow soldiers...i'm convoying tomorrow...i'm leaving this safety nest and i can't go out there with a faulty weapon...i will not go home in a body bag...not if i have a say in it...but now i sit wondering..."at what cost"...it is a me or you situation...and whether i like it or not i am knee deep in an 'us' or 'them' problem...i have to live with that...i will live with that...
finally i think i've fixed it...i hope i have...i pull the bolt back...locking it into place...i take the magazine...it's heavy...it slides up into the weapon and locks into place...i'm holding the weapon at my shoulder...in a mock aiming position...pointing it towards my door...i check the safety...it's on...with my thumb i hit the bolt release...and there is that sound...that unmistakable sound...that horrible...bone chilling sound of one of my rounds chambering into the barrel...and i take a step back...i pause as reality strikes me like a 2 x 4...i look at what i am doing...i mean i really look at what i am trying to do...and it scares me...it horrifies me...
what am i doing...
but i have to do this...i have to protect myself...i have to protect my fellow soldiers...i'm convoying tomorrow...i'm leaving this safety nest and i can't go out there with a faulty weapon...i will not go home in a body bag...not if i have a say in it...but now i sit wondering..."at what cost"...it is a me or you situation...and whether i like it or not i am knee deep in an 'us' or 'them' problem...i have to live with that...i will live with that...
they are working on getting us some perstempo (personnel op tempo[the number of days deployed]) money...i'll believe it when i see it...they cancelled it last year as soon as we got to afghanistan...they made me fill out a sheet listing all of my deployment time for the last two years...i was amazed to find out that i was deployed for 266 days last year...and this year is at 192...so out of the last 20 months...i have been stateside a total of about 4 months...crazy...i didn't even realize it had been that long...you kind of start to lose track...
it's been a pretty eventful day...i got up at 6...only because i had to use the port a potti...and while i was out there in the dark stumbling around...i noticed that the rest of my company was up to...pretty strange because it's supposed to be a day off type of deal...i wouldn't be so lucky...they had formed a 'sand bag detail'...not exactly the best news to hear while your wandering around in the dark wearing shower shoes...that means my 4 hours of sleep was over...and i'm up at the butt crack of dawn...as they say...
i think that the 'sand bag detail' is in response to the mortar attacks we've come under recently...they've started putting up barricades every where...and it is impossible to drive right up to any building...the u.n. must of scared the shit out of them...or it was all just still the works at the time...
i heard a lot of soldiers moaning and groaning about the work...i mean it's hot dirty heavy work...that seems never ending...we filled sand bags for about an hour and a half...the whole company...digging into the dirt...some soldiers put on the happy face and start singing chain gang songs...or village people songs...and laughter makes the work go by faster...i got stuck with the chore of tying the top of the canvas bags closed...there is a little string that is sewn into the top of the bag...you pull it out of the stitching when you are through filling it...and you wrap it around real tight...and tie it off about 3 times...many people don't complete this step properly and i feel like it's the most important one...if the bag isn't tied good enough...it's just going to open back up on you while you've formed your line to move them from the truck to the tent...and be worthless to the sand bag effort...the knuckle creases in my fingers are raw and cut...they sting under water...but i'm a man...and i can suck it up...
all of our work yielded the completion of one side of one tent...it's going to take us weeks at this rate...they want the bags waist high...and encircling every tent...i can almost feel the anger at the work rising deep down in my belly...but then i remember that i'm leaving in a few weeks and it really doesn't matter what they make me do for the rest of the time that i'm here...i feel invincible...
after the 'sand bag detail' was finished for the day...to be continued tomorrow...we had a class called n.c.o.d.p...this stands for non-commissioned officer something that starts with d and something that starts with p...i really don't know...but it is basically classes on our situation...and lectures on how we as n.c.o.'s need to step up and do what we know is right...it's all stuff we've heard before...the main class was on 'i.e.d.'s...that wonderful term that is being thrown around now...like shock and awe...and wmd...i.e.d.'s are improvised explosive devices...and the sergeant first class giving the instruction really broke it down for us...these things are popping up all over the place...he had some slides that were a map of baghdad...with markers indicating the spots of the i.e.d.'s...scary shit...they are every where...
the militants/terrorists/freedom fighters are using all kinds of methods that are quite ingenious...good ideas that will end in american death...they are using kids to stop convoys...they set up fake bombs to make convoys stop far from the supposed bomb...only to detonate other hidden bombs where you have stopped...the use pot holes filled with bombs and dirt...and coke cans filled with c-4...it's a crazy mad freighting world out there...and tomarrow...i get to convoy...i'll take my camera...
my soldier...the heat baby...had 'haji watch' yesterday...he told me about one iraqi...who while working...whipped out a foot long butcher knife...my soldier freaked out and confiscated it at gun point...the iraqi gave it up...and my soldier...he's just a young private first class...was absolutely horrified at this...the iraqi went and found a major...and amazingly enough...my soldier had to give the knife back...this was on post...inside the compound...the iraqis are allowed to have knives...big ones...while they work...i can understand a pocket knife...or ironically even a box cutter...but a butcher knife...what the hell...i brought this up at our meeting...and i was told that "i'm sure that all the iraqis are not caring around butcher knives...that's an exaggeration"...well it doesn't take all the iraqis...it takes one...who doesn't care about making it through the rest of the day...
it's a whole different mind set from ours...many of these militant/terrorist/freedom fighter arabs do not care about living...they would rather be a martyr...and it doesn't take a 100 crazed iraqis strapped with explosives to do some damage...it could take only one...with a butcher knife...killing one american soldier before they are gunned down is martyrdom...they would be praised as heroes...
i think that the 'sand bag detail' is in response to the mortar attacks we've come under recently...they've started putting up barricades every where...and it is impossible to drive right up to any building...the u.n. must of scared the shit out of them...or it was all just still the works at the time...
i heard a lot of soldiers moaning and groaning about the work...i mean it's hot dirty heavy work...that seems never ending...we filled sand bags for about an hour and a half...the whole company...digging into the dirt...some soldiers put on the happy face and start singing chain gang songs...or village people songs...and laughter makes the work go by faster...i got stuck with the chore of tying the top of the canvas bags closed...there is a little string that is sewn into the top of the bag...you pull it out of the stitching when you are through filling it...and you wrap it around real tight...and tie it off about 3 times...many people don't complete this step properly and i feel like it's the most important one...if the bag isn't tied good enough...it's just going to open back up on you while you've formed your line to move them from the truck to the tent...and be worthless to the sand bag effort...the knuckle creases in my fingers are raw and cut...they sting under water...but i'm a man...and i can suck it up...
all of our work yielded the completion of one side of one tent...it's going to take us weeks at this rate...they want the bags waist high...and encircling every tent...i can almost feel the anger at the work rising deep down in my belly...but then i remember that i'm leaving in a few weeks and it really doesn't matter what they make me do for the rest of the time that i'm here...i feel invincible...
after the 'sand bag detail' was finished for the day...to be continued tomorrow...we had a class called n.c.o.d.p...this stands for non-commissioned officer something that starts with d and something that starts with p...i really don't know...but it is basically classes on our situation...and lectures on how we as n.c.o.'s need to step up and do what we know is right...it's all stuff we've heard before...the main class was on 'i.e.d.'s...that wonderful term that is being thrown around now...like shock and awe...and wmd...i.e.d.'s are improvised explosive devices...and the sergeant first class giving the instruction really broke it down for us...these things are popping up all over the place...he had some slides that were a map of baghdad...with markers indicating the spots of the i.e.d.'s...scary shit...they are every where...
the militants/terrorists/freedom fighters are using all kinds of methods that are quite ingenious...good ideas that will end in american death...they are using kids to stop convoys...they set up fake bombs to make convoys stop far from the supposed bomb...only to detonate other hidden bombs where you have stopped...the use pot holes filled with bombs and dirt...and coke cans filled with c-4...it's a crazy mad freighting world out there...and tomarrow...i get to convoy...i'll take my camera...
my soldier...the heat baby...had 'haji watch' yesterday...he told me about one iraqi...who while working...whipped out a foot long butcher knife...my soldier freaked out and confiscated it at gun point...the iraqi gave it up...and my soldier...he's just a young private first class...was absolutely horrified at this...the iraqi went and found a major...and amazingly enough...my soldier had to give the knife back...this was on post...inside the compound...the iraqis are allowed to have knives...big ones...while they work...i can understand a pocket knife...or ironically even a box cutter...but a butcher knife...what the hell...i brought this up at our meeting...and i was told that "i'm sure that all the iraqis are not caring around butcher knives...that's an exaggeration"...well it doesn't take all the iraqis...it takes one...who doesn't care about making it through the rest of the day...
it's a whole different mind set from ours...many of these militant/terrorist/freedom fighter arabs do not care about living...they would rather be a martyr...and it doesn't take a 100 crazed iraqis strapped with explosives to do some damage...it could take only one...with a butcher knife...killing one american soldier before they are gunned down is martyrdom...they would be praised as heroes...
8.25.2003
they told us today...in a battalion formation...early in the morning...standing in the dirt of our motor pool...that we are here...to fight terrorism on its home ground...that we are taking the war to the terrorists...i'm not so sure about that...i think we've brought the terrorists/freedom fighters/militants/loyalists/what ever to iraq...i've read that al-queda is rushing to iraq to support arabs and their fight...
i remember reading that osama wanted nothing to do with saddam and his stalinist regime...osama's only concern was for the islamic people of iraq...saddam is now gone...thanks to us...and we are here...in full force...convoying everyday...easy targets...ignorant of just about everything...and we are on their home turf...so we might have to play by their rules...
i'm so baffled...and confused...9-11 changed my life...in every way...and i do think that if we wish to stop such things from happening we do need to step up and take action...we do need to fight these things on their home turf...but i'm not really sure if the people that hijacked those planes...and brought down those buildings even have a home turf...how do you fight an enemy that has no borders...how do you win a war when the enemy can be anyone...any where...at any time...
it's a 'war on terrorism'...kind of like a 'war on drugs'...and we know how well that one is panning out in america...unwinable...because the more you fight it...the smarter the enemy gets...the more you try to squash terrorists and terrorism...the more martyrs you create...the more troops yo send...the more symbols of rebellion against 'unjust occupiers' you spawn...the longer you 'occupy'...the more people will want to step up and take action...they want a higher meaning...and they want to do what they think is right...i'm terrified of this cycle...and it all seems so simple to me...i wonder why others can't see it...
americans like to think in terms of we...or i...or us...and them...and those...and you...they don't see both sides of the fight...they only perceive right and wrong...good and evil...america and terrorists...many many arabs think america is evil...and they think along the same terms as those americans...only in reverse...so who is right...who is misguided...is there even such a thing as good and evil...
i laugh when i hear americans spouting off with what they think the terrorists reasons are for hating america..."they hate our freedoms"..."they hate our religions"..."they hate our capitalism"..."they hate our s.u.v.'s"...i think they hate us because we make them our business...we come to their countries...and we bomb them...they then come to our country and fly planes into sky scrapers...we then send more troops to their countries...and we drop more bombs...i'm not sure who started this cycle...and does it even matter any more...what is important...is how will we end it...and when i say we i mean all of us...everyone...because it is our problem...
many of those arabs think up conspiracies...they try to figure out our real reasons for dropping bombs...and many of them think that we americans laugh and dance in the streets each time another arab child is killed...they think we rejoice at their demise...they think that all of us are 'zionists'...it's all so sad...the level of misconception...
part of me is so relieved...my time is almost up...and i will head back to the states...i will be reabsorbed back into the ignorant masses...i've wondered hard about how i will continue my life...and i know for sure that the first thing i will do is unplug my t.v. for at least 3 months...well maybe i'll watch 'the simpsons'...because that is the best show on television...but i'm not sure if i even will want to care...i thought along these same lines when i returned from afghanistan...i thought that if i even saw a picture of that country on the news i would change the channel...but i watch them now any way...because i've been there...and i know that place...
people throw around terms like 'brain washed'...and 'misguided'...and 'wrong'...they do this a lot when they them selves are brain washed...by such things as politics...and patriotism...and religion...because how could 'they' be right...that would mean that every thing that 'i' believe in could be wrong...it's easier just to blame others then admit your own misconceptions...
i remember reading that osama wanted nothing to do with saddam and his stalinist regime...osama's only concern was for the islamic people of iraq...saddam is now gone...thanks to us...and we are here...in full force...convoying everyday...easy targets...ignorant of just about everything...and we are on their home turf...so we might have to play by their rules...
i'm so baffled...and confused...9-11 changed my life...in every way...and i do think that if we wish to stop such things from happening we do need to step up and take action...we do need to fight these things on their home turf...but i'm not really sure if the people that hijacked those planes...and brought down those buildings even have a home turf...how do you fight an enemy that has no borders...how do you win a war when the enemy can be anyone...any where...at any time...
it's a 'war on terrorism'...kind of like a 'war on drugs'...and we know how well that one is panning out in america...unwinable...because the more you fight it...the smarter the enemy gets...the more you try to squash terrorists and terrorism...the more martyrs you create...the more troops yo send...the more symbols of rebellion against 'unjust occupiers' you spawn...the longer you 'occupy'...the more people will want to step up and take action...they want a higher meaning...and they want to do what they think is right...i'm terrified of this cycle...and it all seems so simple to me...i wonder why others can't see it...
americans like to think in terms of we...or i...or us...and them...and those...and you...they don't see both sides of the fight...they only perceive right and wrong...good and evil...america and terrorists...many many arabs think america is evil...and they think along the same terms as those americans...only in reverse...so who is right...who is misguided...is there even such a thing as good and evil...
i laugh when i hear americans spouting off with what they think the terrorists reasons are for hating america..."they hate our freedoms"..."they hate our religions"..."they hate our capitalism"..."they hate our s.u.v.'s"...i think they hate us because we make them our business...we come to their countries...and we bomb them...they then come to our country and fly planes into sky scrapers...we then send more troops to their countries...and we drop more bombs...i'm not sure who started this cycle...and does it even matter any more...what is important...is how will we end it...and when i say we i mean all of us...everyone...because it is our problem...
many of those arabs think up conspiracies...they try to figure out our real reasons for dropping bombs...and many of them think that we americans laugh and dance in the streets each time another arab child is killed...they think we rejoice at their demise...they think that all of us are 'zionists'...it's all so sad...the level of misconception...
part of me is so relieved...my time is almost up...and i will head back to the states...i will be reabsorbed back into the ignorant masses...i've wondered hard about how i will continue my life...and i know for sure that the first thing i will do is unplug my t.v. for at least 3 months...well maybe i'll watch 'the simpsons'...because that is the best show on television...but i'm not sure if i even will want to care...i thought along these same lines when i returned from afghanistan...i thought that if i even saw a picture of that country on the news i would change the channel...but i watch them now any way...because i've been there...and i know that place...
people throw around terms like 'brain washed'...and 'misguided'...and 'wrong'...they do this a lot when they them selves are brain washed...by such things as politics...and patriotism...and religion...because how could 'they' be right...that would mean that every thing that 'i' believe in could be wrong...it's easier just to blame others then admit your own misconceptions...
8.24.2003
today...i found river bend...she is the author of 'baghdad burning'...and she is 24 like me...she is an iraqi woman and she is in baghdad...her take on this is not stereotypical...and she puts things in a much better perspective then i ever could...i'm very much reminded of salam when i read her words...and as i finished reading her whole blog...it's not very long...yet...i asked myself why i felt so connected with this woman...is it because we are on opposing sides of this same monster...or maybe because we are so geographically close...or maybe it's because we both write in a very western style...or maybe because of the age similarity...or maybe even knowing the shared terror of waking up to explosions...what ever it is i'm thankful for having found her...people like her restore my faith in humanity...and i could really use a fill up sometimes...
she wrote about the disbelief that westerners have that an iraqi...woman...in baghdad...would even have a computer...or know how to operate a computer...or have internet access in their mud hut in iraq...or even speak enough english to hold a conversation...some people are so ignorant...and caught up in their own little circles...where they all pat each other on their backs and tell each other how smart they are...when the truth of the matter is...you don't know it...until you've lived it...you might have an idea...but at the end of the day...it is still only that...an idea...
i've been given the unofficial date of departure...either the 16th or the 19th of next month...but that could be changed or altered at any minute...i'm one of the lucky ones...
i walked into my shift change brief the other day and my commander was playing 'it's beginning to look a lot like christmas' on his computer...he was smiling...at his own sick humor...and i looked around the room...at soldiers whose attitudes always remain upbeat...soldiers who are quick to offer a joke or a helping hand...and you could see it on their faces...the total relaxation of their facial muscles...long eyes...heads dropping...you can see it...the realization that they are not going home any time soon...and i felt like a shit bag...a giant pile of crap...how could i sit around any longer feeling tired or upset or aching for home for one more minute...when i know that i will be leaving months before my friends and colleagues...
sitting in my little van...alone...all day long...i forget about my fellow soldiers...i'm not around them so much...but i have to tell myself...that i've done my time...and i've almost fulfilled my obligation and my duty...6 years is no joke...and there is so much more to me as a person then there was when i was 18...i feel bad for them all...but we make our own decisions...unless of course...someone else makes them for us...
she wrote about the disbelief that westerners have that an iraqi...woman...in baghdad...would even have a computer...or know how to operate a computer...or have internet access in their mud hut in iraq...or even speak enough english to hold a conversation...some people are so ignorant...and caught up in their own little circles...where they all pat each other on their backs and tell each other how smart they are...when the truth of the matter is...you don't know it...until you've lived it...you might have an idea...but at the end of the day...it is still only that...an idea...
i've been given the unofficial date of departure...either the 16th or the 19th of next month...but that could be changed or altered at any minute...i'm one of the lucky ones...
i walked into my shift change brief the other day and my commander was playing 'it's beginning to look a lot like christmas' on his computer...he was smiling...at his own sick humor...and i looked around the room...at soldiers whose attitudes always remain upbeat...soldiers who are quick to offer a joke or a helping hand...and you could see it on their faces...the total relaxation of their facial muscles...long eyes...heads dropping...you can see it...the realization that they are not going home any time soon...and i felt like a shit bag...a giant pile of crap...how could i sit around any longer feeling tired or upset or aching for home for one more minute...when i know that i will be leaving months before my friends and colleagues...
sitting in my little van...alone...all day long...i forget about my fellow soldiers...i'm not around them so much...but i have to tell myself...that i've done my time...and i've almost fulfilled my obligation and my duty...6 years is no joke...and there is so much more to me as a person then there was when i was 18...i feel bad for them all...but we make our own decisions...unless of course...someone else makes them for us...
Links
Previous Posts
- For those of you that might still care. I'm still...
- out of the blue i get random emails...but isn't th...
- one of the best soldier war blogs i've yet to find...
- i sat at BIAP (baghdad international airport) for ...
- i'm home...more later...much more indeed...
- thank paul woodward of warincontext.org for this i...
- i'm writing from my tailgate...it's dark...the mos...
- some people join up...and they know that they will...
- i packed today...i still have a few days to go...b...
- well i've caught hell over what i said about river...
Archives
- 06/01/2003 - 06/08/2003
- 06/08/2003 - 06/15/2003
- 06/15/2003 - 06/22/2003
- 06/22/2003 - 06/29/2003
- 06/29/2003 - 07/06/2003
- 07/06/2003 - 07/13/2003
- 07/13/2003 - 07/20/2003
- 07/20/2003 - 07/27/2003
- 07/27/2003 - 08/03/2003
- 08/03/2003 - 08/10/2003
- 08/10/2003 - 08/17/2003
- 08/17/2003 - 08/24/2003
- 08/24/2003 - 08/31/2003
- 08/31/2003 - 09/07/2003
- 09/07/2003 - 09/14/2003
- 09/21/2003 - 09/28/2003
- 04/04/2004 - 04/11/2004
- 10/10/2004 - 10/17/2004
- 12/31/2006 - 01/07/2007
