thedrifter
08-26-07, 03:13 PM
Sunny tropic scenes?
What next war needs is an inviting beach
By Daniel Marquez - Special to the Times
Posted : September 03, 2007
Although I haven’t spoken to all Marines personally (I’ve spoken to four, which is close), I feel confident that I represent the feelings of the entire Marine Corps when I propose that we choose a more exotic and tropical country in which to fight a war next time.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing we war junkies would like more than to spend a fourth or fifth tour in some gorgeous town with a name like Al-Haqqyaniyallah. We relish the opportunity to wake up in the morning (to the sound of incoming mortars), meander outside to enjoy the morning sun (130-degree weather), take a scenic stroll down the street (playing IED hopscotch), finally finding a shady spot on the side of the road to take a break (kneeling for nine hours, choking on an eternal cloud of white marking smoke, waiting for EOD) and enjoy some cool refreshment (stale water from a CamelBak).
And who could deny the thrill of cultural interaction from trying new foods (and spending half a deployment in a Port-O-John), learning exciting new phrases (“Wayn Irhabin?” which means “Where are the insurgents?”) and snapping photos of local scenery (a donkey groaning under 900 blue plastic barrels).
Seductive as our current area of operations may be, I believe we can do better. Let’s pause a moment to take an objective look at the cold, hard facts of war, many of which I just made up.
Statistically speaking, 89 percent of our predecessors’ battles were fought on or near a beach (New Providence, Bahamas), with plenty of sand (Iwo Jima) and copious amounts of rum (Marine Corps Birthday Ball in Vegas, 2002). The average battlefield atmosphere also included plenty of sunshine, palm trees and deafening explosions.
Historically speaking, the Marine Corps has avoided landlocked campaigns such as the European invasion. After all, who wants to leap out of flak-riddled airplanes into some snooty town in France when you can swim up on the crystal-clear shores of a beautiful island like Okinawa, right? Who wants to suck diesel fumes walking behind a troop transport in St. Lo when you can go on an exotic bird-sighting tour in a leafy, triple canopy jungle in Asia?
Coral puncture wounds will heal, but memories are forever.
It’s possible that we’ve gotten away from our intended role as a maritime force. It’s a little-known fact that the word “maritime” comes from the two Greek root words, “maris” and “timun” — “maris” meaning “several months at sea” and “timun” meaning “punctuated by port calls in Asia.”
So, hearing no objections and in the interest of restoring our amphibious heritage, I propose that we, the Marine Corps, fight battles only in countries that have beaches, friendly natives and minimal spontaneous explosions. I will submit the petition to some influential people in D.C. including, but not limited to, the commandant of the Marine Corps, members of Congress and Sean Penn. This petition has been carefully crafted with the help of my legal adviser, who also happens to be my barber and speaks little English. Additionally, I have discussed this proposal with several prominent Marine Corps staff officers — who displayed their enthusiastic approval by way of restraining orders, blocking my telephone number and deleting my e-mails.
Obviously, the proposal will require a great deal of intelligence groundwork. Drawing on my razor-sharp people skills, vast knowledge of foreign affairs and a few cases of beer, I have convinced some of my friends in the Marine Corps intelligence community to fabricate reports about the evils of some choice locations around the world. Who knew that there were Russian nuclear submarines lurking under the waves off the coast of Fiji? What a surprise to find out that Cuba is home to several communists and some of the best scuba diving spots in the world.
Send in your petition (name and unit) to theoriginalmotivator@gmail.com.
Here’s to fighting in every clime and place, and to little umbrellas sticking out of our CamelBaks.
The writer is a staff sergeant in Iraq.
Ellie
What next war needs is an inviting beach
By Daniel Marquez - Special to the Times
Posted : September 03, 2007
Although I haven’t spoken to all Marines personally (I’ve spoken to four, which is close), I feel confident that I represent the feelings of the entire Marine Corps when I propose that we choose a more exotic and tropical country in which to fight a war next time.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing we war junkies would like more than to spend a fourth or fifth tour in some gorgeous town with a name like Al-Haqqyaniyallah. We relish the opportunity to wake up in the morning (to the sound of incoming mortars), meander outside to enjoy the morning sun (130-degree weather), take a scenic stroll down the street (playing IED hopscotch), finally finding a shady spot on the side of the road to take a break (kneeling for nine hours, choking on an eternal cloud of white marking smoke, waiting for EOD) and enjoy some cool refreshment (stale water from a CamelBak).
And who could deny the thrill of cultural interaction from trying new foods (and spending half a deployment in a Port-O-John), learning exciting new phrases (“Wayn Irhabin?” which means “Where are the insurgents?”) and snapping photos of local scenery (a donkey groaning under 900 blue plastic barrels).
Seductive as our current area of operations may be, I believe we can do better. Let’s pause a moment to take an objective look at the cold, hard facts of war, many of which I just made up.
Statistically speaking, 89 percent of our predecessors’ battles were fought on or near a beach (New Providence, Bahamas), with plenty of sand (Iwo Jima) and copious amounts of rum (Marine Corps Birthday Ball in Vegas, 2002). The average battlefield atmosphere also included plenty of sunshine, palm trees and deafening explosions.
Historically speaking, the Marine Corps has avoided landlocked campaigns such as the European invasion. After all, who wants to leap out of flak-riddled airplanes into some snooty town in France when you can swim up on the crystal-clear shores of a beautiful island like Okinawa, right? Who wants to suck diesel fumes walking behind a troop transport in St. Lo when you can go on an exotic bird-sighting tour in a leafy, triple canopy jungle in Asia?
Coral puncture wounds will heal, but memories are forever.
It’s possible that we’ve gotten away from our intended role as a maritime force. It’s a little-known fact that the word “maritime” comes from the two Greek root words, “maris” and “timun” — “maris” meaning “several months at sea” and “timun” meaning “punctuated by port calls in Asia.”
So, hearing no objections and in the interest of restoring our amphibious heritage, I propose that we, the Marine Corps, fight battles only in countries that have beaches, friendly natives and minimal spontaneous explosions. I will submit the petition to some influential people in D.C. including, but not limited to, the commandant of the Marine Corps, members of Congress and Sean Penn. This petition has been carefully crafted with the help of my legal adviser, who also happens to be my barber and speaks little English. Additionally, I have discussed this proposal with several prominent Marine Corps staff officers — who displayed their enthusiastic approval by way of restraining orders, blocking my telephone number and deleting my e-mails.
Obviously, the proposal will require a great deal of intelligence groundwork. Drawing on my razor-sharp people skills, vast knowledge of foreign affairs and a few cases of beer, I have convinced some of my friends in the Marine Corps intelligence community to fabricate reports about the evils of some choice locations around the world. Who knew that there were Russian nuclear submarines lurking under the waves off the coast of Fiji? What a surprise to find out that Cuba is home to several communists and some of the best scuba diving spots in the world.
Send in your petition (name and unit) to theoriginalmotivator@gmail.com.
Here’s to fighting in every clime and place, and to little umbrellas sticking out of our CamelBaks.
The writer is a staff sergeant in Iraq.
Ellie