thedrifter
09-11-05, 05:48 AM
There's little for troops to do between searches
September 11,2005
CHRIS MAZZOLINI View stories by reporter
DAILY NEWS STAFF
NEW ORLEANS - "Hot chow!"
The call echoed through the makeshift barracks, the morale boost evident as Marines jumped up to investigate.
"If you want hot chow, get dressed and go outside!"
Waiting for them out in the clear Louisiana night, under the white glare of a spotlight and before a line of amtracs, was the first sign of hot food they had seen in days: fresh sandwiches, with real meat, cheese and bread, and topped off by a frozen burrito.
In other words, heaven for a Marine fed only Meals-Ready to Eat for five days.
It's small scenes such as Marines waiting in line to nuke their burritos in the microwave that illustrate how life goes on for those who have come to the Gulf Coast to help the rescue and recovery effort in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.
At NASA's Michoud Assembly Facility, about 10 miles east of New Orleans, two companies of Camp Lejeune's 1st Battalion, 8th Marines - Bravo and Weapons - have established the closest thing to a home in this storm-ravaged place. It is a command center, a barracks and a chow hall, as well as a place for Marines to simply kick back and relax when they are not slogging the amtracs through flooded streets in search of survivors.
One building in particular at Michoud has been taken over by the Marines, a cafeteria attached to a large empty room where the leathernecks stash their gear and get some shuteye. Tucked into one corner of the room is the command center, marked by a large whiteboard covered with marker-scrawled information, where the companies have set up communication gear to keep lines open when they go into the field. A makeshift armory is in the back.
There are a few comforts. Tables are surrounded by Marines playing cards. One TV in the back center of the barracks outfitted with some sort of surround sound system is playing the movie "Troy." Outside, Marines lounge about makeshift tables and drink water, surrounded by felled tree branches.
Daily life for these Marines, who could be at Michoud for weeks, is either out patrolling for survivors or waiting to go.
Down time
And a popular place to wait is the smoking pits in the courtyard outside the cafeteria. There, a collection of Marines sit on benches and suck in cigarette smoke between chugs of bottled water.
"It's pretty boring," said Lance Cpl. John Giga, 22, who hails from Brick, N.J.. "You can't really do anything. You can watch movies, but that gets boring. You can't just sit around all day. There's nothing to do."
"Smoke cigarettes," another suggests, and does just that.
"Here, people want to work every day," Giga said. "No one wants to sit around and do nothing."
People come and go, chiming in with their thoughts on the hurricane or on the prospects of nabbing a cigarette from one of their cohorts. Based on the cigarettes and tins of chew floating around, nicotine is obviously a precious commodity.
"Tobacco products are really low," Giga said. "That's one of the biggest problems. There's also no showers, no hot chow. No gym. Those are the four.
"Really, you don't complain about it because it's America (we're helping)."
Others nod in agreement. But still, they say spirits are good because it's a mission they believe in.
"Morale can drop because you're not doing anything except sitting around," said Lance Cpl Anthony Kourlakis, 26, of Farmington Hills, Mich. "But you find someone and it's all worth it."
While many in the civilian world are talking about comparisons between this disaster and the Iraq War, Marines talk about the similarities and differences as well. For one thing, they say both operations are there to help people.
"When you're in Iraq, your there to help people fight against tyranny and the insurgents, but this is a good feeling because you're actually helping Americans," said Lance Cpl. Anthony Silva III, 23, from Oakdale, Calif. "It shows the world we can get together as a nation."
They realize that every night that goes by - the Marines are only operating during daylight - will make it harder to find survivors.
"It's very deserted," Kourlakis said. "But humans have an amazing willpower to survive."
He went on to describe a woman they rescued who had held on for six days and was actually quite calm when the Marines arrived.
"It was very routine for her," he said in amazement.
People aren't the only survivors. Animals are also being rescued, from dogs and cats to a woman who refused to leave her home unless the Marines also took her six or seven ferrets and an assortment of other pets.
In fact, a gray-and-white kitten pokes about as the Marines talk, curling up amid the debris and sniffing around for stray pieces of food. Lance Cpl. Matt Rawcliffe, from Corning, N.Y., said some Marines brought it back with them when they found it out on patrol.
"You could see its ribs when it first got here," he said. "But we fed it some MREs and fattened it up."
But conversations always drift back to the hurricane, especially on how it is perceived by the rest of the country. They ask what the media coverage is like, and what they are concentrating on. They wonder if people know what the Marines are doing down here. They ask how much people are paying for gas, then shake their heads and swear when they find out.
Others have a more personal connection to the tragedy, because 1/8 has a number of Marines from Louisiana.
"I didn't think it was going to be that bad," said Lance Cpl. Brandon Burleigh from Lafayette, La., which is about two hours west of New Orleans. "Usually when (hurricanes) hit they lose a lot of force. But this is crazy. You got people looting because they have nothing left, and it's hard to blame them.
"I used to go down there and party," he added. "Now, it's all water and trash."
None of that seemed to bother him as much as seeing the catastrophic loss of life first hand, the people still around who need to be rescued, and the constant reminder that he is in America.
"It's really messed up, having to save your own people," Burleigh said.
Contact staff writer Chris Mazzolini at cmazzolini@freedomenc.com or 353-1171, Ext. 229.
Ellie
September 11,2005
CHRIS MAZZOLINI View stories by reporter
DAILY NEWS STAFF
NEW ORLEANS - "Hot chow!"
The call echoed through the makeshift barracks, the morale boost evident as Marines jumped up to investigate.
"If you want hot chow, get dressed and go outside!"
Waiting for them out in the clear Louisiana night, under the white glare of a spotlight and before a line of amtracs, was the first sign of hot food they had seen in days: fresh sandwiches, with real meat, cheese and bread, and topped off by a frozen burrito.
In other words, heaven for a Marine fed only Meals-Ready to Eat for five days.
It's small scenes such as Marines waiting in line to nuke their burritos in the microwave that illustrate how life goes on for those who have come to the Gulf Coast to help the rescue and recovery effort in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.
At NASA's Michoud Assembly Facility, about 10 miles east of New Orleans, two companies of Camp Lejeune's 1st Battalion, 8th Marines - Bravo and Weapons - have established the closest thing to a home in this storm-ravaged place. It is a command center, a barracks and a chow hall, as well as a place for Marines to simply kick back and relax when they are not slogging the amtracs through flooded streets in search of survivors.
One building in particular at Michoud has been taken over by the Marines, a cafeteria attached to a large empty room where the leathernecks stash their gear and get some shuteye. Tucked into one corner of the room is the command center, marked by a large whiteboard covered with marker-scrawled information, where the companies have set up communication gear to keep lines open when they go into the field. A makeshift armory is in the back.
There are a few comforts. Tables are surrounded by Marines playing cards. One TV in the back center of the barracks outfitted with some sort of surround sound system is playing the movie "Troy." Outside, Marines lounge about makeshift tables and drink water, surrounded by felled tree branches.
Daily life for these Marines, who could be at Michoud for weeks, is either out patrolling for survivors or waiting to go.
Down time
And a popular place to wait is the smoking pits in the courtyard outside the cafeteria. There, a collection of Marines sit on benches and suck in cigarette smoke between chugs of bottled water.
"It's pretty boring," said Lance Cpl. John Giga, 22, who hails from Brick, N.J.. "You can't really do anything. You can watch movies, but that gets boring. You can't just sit around all day. There's nothing to do."
"Smoke cigarettes," another suggests, and does just that.
"Here, people want to work every day," Giga said. "No one wants to sit around and do nothing."
People come and go, chiming in with their thoughts on the hurricane or on the prospects of nabbing a cigarette from one of their cohorts. Based on the cigarettes and tins of chew floating around, nicotine is obviously a precious commodity.
"Tobacco products are really low," Giga said. "That's one of the biggest problems. There's also no showers, no hot chow. No gym. Those are the four.
"Really, you don't complain about it because it's America (we're helping)."
Others nod in agreement. But still, they say spirits are good because it's a mission they believe in.
"Morale can drop because you're not doing anything except sitting around," said Lance Cpl Anthony Kourlakis, 26, of Farmington Hills, Mich. "But you find someone and it's all worth it."
While many in the civilian world are talking about comparisons between this disaster and the Iraq War, Marines talk about the similarities and differences as well. For one thing, they say both operations are there to help people.
"When you're in Iraq, your there to help people fight against tyranny and the insurgents, but this is a good feeling because you're actually helping Americans," said Lance Cpl. Anthony Silva III, 23, from Oakdale, Calif. "It shows the world we can get together as a nation."
They realize that every night that goes by - the Marines are only operating during daylight - will make it harder to find survivors.
"It's very deserted," Kourlakis said. "But humans have an amazing willpower to survive."
He went on to describe a woman they rescued who had held on for six days and was actually quite calm when the Marines arrived.
"It was very routine for her," he said in amazement.
People aren't the only survivors. Animals are also being rescued, from dogs and cats to a woman who refused to leave her home unless the Marines also took her six or seven ferrets and an assortment of other pets.
In fact, a gray-and-white kitten pokes about as the Marines talk, curling up amid the debris and sniffing around for stray pieces of food. Lance Cpl. Matt Rawcliffe, from Corning, N.Y., said some Marines brought it back with them when they found it out on patrol.
"You could see its ribs when it first got here," he said. "But we fed it some MREs and fattened it up."
But conversations always drift back to the hurricane, especially on how it is perceived by the rest of the country. They ask what the media coverage is like, and what they are concentrating on. They wonder if people know what the Marines are doing down here. They ask how much people are paying for gas, then shake their heads and swear when they find out.
Others have a more personal connection to the tragedy, because 1/8 has a number of Marines from Louisiana.
"I didn't think it was going to be that bad," said Lance Cpl. Brandon Burleigh from Lafayette, La., which is about two hours west of New Orleans. "Usually when (hurricanes) hit they lose a lot of force. But this is crazy. You got people looting because they have nothing left, and it's hard to blame them.
"I used to go down there and party," he added. "Now, it's all water and trash."
None of that seemed to bother him as much as seeing the catastrophic loss of life first hand, the people still around who need to be rescued, and the constant reminder that he is in America.
"It's really messed up, having to save your own people," Burleigh said.
Contact staff writer Chris Mazzolini at cmazzolini@freedomenc.com or 353-1171, Ext. 229.
Ellie