thedrifter
01-13-07, 07:24 AM
Modified: Jan 13, 2007 06:22 AM
God is with Marines amid 'death blossoms'
Dennis Rogers, Staff Writer
"Uncommon valor was a common virtue," is the way Adm. Chester Nimitz described the heroism of World War II Marines at Iwo Jima.
Today, a new generation of battle-hardened Leathernecks is adding even more luster to that Marine legend.
Cpl. Danny Muller, assigned to the 1st Battalion, 6th Marine Regiment in Ramadi, Iraq, is from Johnston County. His father, retired Raleigh police officer Wayne Muller, has graciously shared some of Danny's eloquent e-mails with me. This is the second of two columns based on excerpts from those e-mails.
If you really want to know what life is like for our kids in combat -- and the courage it takes to spend a day in their dusty boots -- read on. The Greatest Generation has nothing on these young Marines.
"Well, it's finally calmed down for the moment over here," Danny, who's been 21 all of 10 days, wrote just before Christmas. "It's been bad, but we're surviving.
"The other day, they pulled myself and nine others out to help secure an area around the heart of the city. This area has never seen foot soldiers or Marines, but the insurgents still knew we were coming.
"By the time we were in place, the sun was coming up. Myself and five others had just finished moving down an alley [when] all hell broke loose.
"[We] went around the corner and headed into the first building. The gunny stepped on an IED [improvised explosive device, or booby trap] laid under the tile. At the same time, two IEDs in the side room went off, blowing my guys across the alley. The gunny took shrapnel to his legs, one guy lost his right eye and two others had internal bleeding but were OK."
(For you civilians, "gunny" is affectionate Marine shorthand for gunnery sergeants, those seasoned noncommissioned officers legendary for leading young Marines in combat.)
"We got them out of the house and started moving across the yard into the road when the insurgents came into the street and unloaded on us. This was the first time we'd met them face to face.
"In Ramadi, we call it the 'death blossom.' Tracer rounds fired directly at you have a tendency to open up like a flower bud. Yet none of us got hit. God was with us.
"As soon as we got in the alley, guys were on the rooftops and started dropping grenades. Not the most enjoyable five minutes, to say the least.
"So now we are moving back into the house with 12 guys, 5 wounded and a radio that burned up. It was 8 a.m. All the rest of the day they were shooting back and forth, RPGs [rocket propelled grenades] against LAWS [light anti-tank weapons].
"We got out around 4:30 p.m. and started loading up the wounded. About the time we started moving, an RPG struck the vehicle behind me. The gunner in the last vehicle wasted the insurgent and myself and a corpsman got out to see what damage there was.
"A lance corporal got out and crawled toward us. We got him into the Highback [Humvee] and got ready to get out of there when the doc said he was dead. A small piece of metal the size of a nickel had clipped the femoral artery in his left leg. We didn't know at the time it was that bad.
"So we went to Camp Ramadi, dropped off our wounded and dead and headed back out.
"Every day we get hit here, usually at sunup and sundown and there's always something going on. But there are some good moments, too. Whether [it is] the "Night Fever" dance-offs or the white boy rap competitions, these guys always make each other laugh.
"Lately though, we've been talking about home, families, wives and what we left back there. And we've cried with each other a lot. Never thought we'd do that, but sometimes the smallest thing makes you cry here, like watching 'Bambi' or reading a letter from home.
"As for Gunny, believe it or not, he's back. They removed the metal from his legs and he stayed. The guy who lost his eye is in Bethesda [naval hospital] going through post-surgery recovery. The others will spend some time in Baghdad but will return in a few weeks.
"It's hard, but I think we slowly start to distance ourselves from the thought of death and accept it as part of life. Every Marine I've known [who was] killed here would have wanted it that way, not a peaceful death but fighting to the end. And that's what they all have done.
"So now we just continue to watch over each other's backs and make the best of what we've chosen for ourselves. Still wouldn't have made a different decision, though. It is a love/hate relationship.
"Thank you for the Christmas goodies. We've decorated the place quite nicely and spirits are actually fairly high. I love you guys so much and can't wait to see you!
"Love always,
"Dan the Man."
It was announced this week that the 1/6th Marines' deployment would be extended 60 to 90 days.
Next time you hear some loudmouth sounding off about "these kids today," remember Danny Muller and his buddies.
And maybe you could say a little prayer for all of them.
Dennis Rogers can be reached at 829-4750 or drogers@newsobserver.com.
Ellie
God is with Marines amid 'death blossoms'
Dennis Rogers, Staff Writer
"Uncommon valor was a common virtue," is the way Adm. Chester Nimitz described the heroism of World War II Marines at Iwo Jima.
Today, a new generation of battle-hardened Leathernecks is adding even more luster to that Marine legend.
Cpl. Danny Muller, assigned to the 1st Battalion, 6th Marine Regiment in Ramadi, Iraq, is from Johnston County. His father, retired Raleigh police officer Wayne Muller, has graciously shared some of Danny's eloquent e-mails with me. This is the second of two columns based on excerpts from those e-mails.
If you really want to know what life is like for our kids in combat -- and the courage it takes to spend a day in their dusty boots -- read on. The Greatest Generation has nothing on these young Marines.
"Well, it's finally calmed down for the moment over here," Danny, who's been 21 all of 10 days, wrote just before Christmas. "It's been bad, but we're surviving.
"The other day, they pulled myself and nine others out to help secure an area around the heart of the city. This area has never seen foot soldiers or Marines, but the insurgents still knew we were coming.
"By the time we were in place, the sun was coming up. Myself and five others had just finished moving down an alley [when] all hell broke loose.
"[We] went around the corner and headed into the first building. The gunny stepped on an IED [improvised explosive device, or booby trap] laid under the tile. At the same time, two IEDs in the side room went off, blowing my guys across the alley. The gunny took shrapnel to his legs, one guy lost his right eye and two others had internal bleeding but were OK."
(For you civilians, "gunny" is affectionate Marine shorthand for gunnery sergeants, those seasoned noncommissioned officers legendary for leading young Marines in combat.)
"We got them out of the house and started moving across the yard into the road when the insurgents came into the street and unloaded on us. This was the first time we'd met them face to face.
"In Ramadi, we call it the 'death blossom.' Tracer rounds fired directly at you have a tendency to open up like a flower bud. Yet none of us got hit. God was with us.
"As soon as we got in the alley, guys were on the rooftops and started dropping grenades. Not the most enjoyable five minutes, to say the least.
"So now we are moving back into the house with 12 guys, 5 wounded and a radio that burned up. It was 8 a.m. All the rest of the day they were shooting back and forth, RPGs [rocket propelled grenades] against LAWS [light anti-tank weapons].
"We got out around 4:30 p.m. and started loading up the wounded. About the time we started moving, an RPG struck the vehicle behind me. The gunner in the last vehicle wasted the insurgent and myself and a corpsman got out to see what damage there was.
"A lance corporal got out and crawled toward us. We got him into the Highback [Humvee] and got ready to get out of there when the doc said he was dead. A small piece of metal the size of a nickel had clipped the femoral artery in his left leg. We didn't know at the time it was that bad.
"So we went to Camp Ramadi, dropped off our wounded and dead and headed back out.
"Every day we get hit here, usually at sunup and sundown and there's always something going on. But there are some good moments, too. Whether [it is] the "Night Fever" dance-offs or the white boy rap competitions, these guys always make each other laugh.
"Lately though, we've been talking about home, families, wives and what we left back there. And we've cried with each other a lot. Never thought we'd do that, but sometimes the smallest thing makes you cry here, like watching 'Bambi' or reading a letter from home.
"As for Gunny, believe it or not, he's back. They removed the metal from his legs and he stayed. The guy who lost his eye is in Bethesda [naval hospital] going through post-surgery recovery. The others will spend some time in Baghdad but will return in a few weeks.
"It's hard, but I think we slowly start to distance ourselves from the thought of death and accept it as part of life. Every Marine I've known [who was] killed here would have wanted it that way, not a peaceful death but fighting to the end. And that's what they all have done.
"So now we just continue to watch over each other's backs and make the best of what we've chosen for ourselves. Still wouldn't have made a different decision, though. It is a love/hate relationship.
"Thank you for the Christmas goodies. We've decorated the place quite nicely and spirits are actually fairly high. I love you guys so much and can't wait to see you!
"Love always,
"Dan the Man."
It was announced this week that the 1/6th Marines' deployment would be extended 60 to 90 days.
Next time you hear some loudmouth sounding off about "these kids today," remember Danny Muller and his buddies.
And maybe you could say a little prayer for all of them.
Dennis Rogers can be reached at 829-4750 or drogers@newsobserver.com.
Ellie