One Marine's view from Iraq

**thedrifter** · 01-16-06, 05:33 AM

SAVING THE WORLD
Jan. 15, 2006

There are many things we do to assist the Iraqi people both visible and sometimes not very visible. Many smaller events get accomplished so that larger ones can continue to move on and form the country's independence. The event themselves I wont discuss but you can get a feeling at least of how we felt traveling around the area saving the world or so it seemed.

Our convoy began in the dark. It was a good one and longer than most. All was good as I peered through my ballistic orange glasses for low light use. Not many Haji's out and the travel was fast. The sun began to come up and we had to move to another base. Our mission would help many other Iraqis in the long run down the road. It was imperative to get there as we would be going through a lot of shady parts of town (Regular freaking carnival ride!). We moved through a farley large city and it looked like ruins of some Roman Empire with black smoke throughout. (no kilts) Our gunners fire a few warning shotgun shots at a car that doesn't want to stop. The whole time your doing the continuous IED scanning from hell, here there everywhere, where is the next one going off going to come from? The black burnt craters from past SVBIEDs are always reassuring and a deadly reminder along the highway. Truck one relays to watch the black bag on the right shoulder (characteristic of IEDs). We adjust. Flash bangs detonate near another truck who isn't stopping. (9 out of 10 times they just don't see us until we are upon them but the one time is the one that will kill you) This is why we use an escalation of force instead of gunning them down right off the bat. The sun is coming up and its an huge yellow sun rising with clouds above it and looks like something out of the holiday season tv version of the Ten Commandments. We get closer to our destination and more traffic is appearing but the Marines handle it well. Adjusting and clearing traffic we reach our destination without any problems. The credit goes to the young Marines being vigilant and proactive. What great leaders our county has to look forward to as they young Men continue to grow. We complete the first phase of our mission which takes the majority of the day. Many key personnel are involved and Iraq's future begins to become visible and Americas exit begins to become even more apparent. We are finished here and now have to move to yet another location for more business to conduct.

We began our helo departure as it was dark, wind blowing and cold. The low illume turquoise lights from inside the helo showed our small group onto the aircraft. Crew chiefs manning the guns with their green glow around their eyes from their Night Vision Devices (NVGs) sat ready manning their 50 cals as we began to take off. Engines whining, fluid dripping (it's a good thing when they leak, its when they quit leaking is when you worry) The aircraft noses down as we lifted off for some reason the song "Born to be wild" by Steppenwolf began to play in my head and my toes began to tap. The low illume lights went out inside the helo and the ever present smell of JP8 aircraft fuel ran through the cabin. The shake of the helo is perfect to put you to sleep. It's a short hop so I fight the sleep and look out the back ramp of the helo and see lit up clouds by a full moon. Its pitch black in the cabin. As we travel I catch the dark yellow moons reflection on the Euphrates as we fly over a section of the river. As we continue the moon disappears because of darker lower clouds we fly into and they begin to surround us. Its completely dark in the cabin minus the green eyes behind the 50 cals and a couple instrument lights in the cockpit. Then, a big flash and I fight my gear to twist to scan out a window and begin to clean the crap out of shorts. Its never good to see a big flash in the sky with helos. There is no more moon out and the flash was very bright. Were not hit I thought as we are still flying. As I always sit in the same place on the bird I know how to get out if we go into the drink (water) and as I reach for a well known handle to turn just in time to see spider webs of lightening go through the black cloudy sky just above us. Great! Grand! Wonderful! Were heading into a thunderstorm. The kind or lightening you see out on the prairie in the movies. Its actually pretty neat to see, just not at a few thousand feet. The aircraft drops down nice and a lot lower than usual as I can easily see the halogen lights that light up the houses in Haji land as we fly over them. For some reason I think about the last cigar I burnt about a half hour ago, it still tastes good. More lightening bolts off in the distance as the flight is pretty smooth surprisingly and there is a diamond shape cut out of the clouds as the full moon briefly shines through then goes behind black clouds. We approach our landing site banking hard left and I can make out a black helo silhouette behind us as the "Dash 2" helo approaches in our adjacent path. We are low over the city and anti missile chaff begins to deploy off the aircraft to misdirect surface to air missile (basically it seems someone is locking on to us ) CRAPTFREAKINGASTIC!! Just what I need. I have had a long butt crack day, been up since yesterday, sitting in crap (not really) and now surface to air threat. We land however without any problems (ok the flyboys did a good job) and we are on the ground. Its dark, soaked ground from hours of past rain and our night begins to wind down but before we rack we go over the next days plan.

It was a short night (stooopid alarm clock) and its still dark as I enjoy a nice pop tart and coffee………..cigar to follow of course. We have yet another mission and its going to be a white knuckle ride. Im not humming Born to be wild anymore more like ****ting diamonds cause we are so puckered. Helo support is above us and nice and low where I can see the pilots. I like it that way! We begin out the route weave through the many barriers to only be met by the many IED pot holes in the road right off the bat. My driver hits a pot hole (never good) and I say do you think we can go AROUND the potholes; I really don't want to hit any mines today! He is trying but he still hits a couple. We can't afford to get dead. Not today. We continue to motor down and have the air support about 50 yrds ahead of us at a couple hundred feet just looking for ass to beat. Our Forward Air Controller (FAC) vectors them to recon our path and watch our flanks as the city is bare and empty. We have a million moving parts to today's op and for some reason things are just not going as planed. They say the best laid plan changes as soon as you step off. We ours went into another millennium. Adapt, overcome feel like shooting something, its all good we adjust and overcome. We get to our destination in downtown. First class craphole. Its like if you ever asked yourself, hmmmmmmmw here is the worse place I could think about being. BINGO, your there. The buildings shot up from previous gun fights, collapsed building floors, nasty standing water and a nice stench lead your way. We conduct our business with the Hajis's who we are working with. Its pretty interesting and they are doing their damnedest to build their country. You got to give it to them when they know America's history and George Washington better than some Americans. We talk and they tell us, yes like George Washington this and GW that, our country will be great soon. Good on em………time to go, see ya. We load up our Marines and do the smashed pedal race back to base. The Army works well with us as they cover our flanks as we move through the city. Im always scanning and all of a sudden I see a black silhouette on a roof top and so does the gunner as he swings the turret around and the split second that goes by I make out a burkah and not a black hooded RPG shooter. The gunner and I comment on that later and agree it got our attention as she was just hanging laundry, the young Marine says with a **** eating grin on his face. We continue to haul ass back home and arrive without incident. Another couple fun packed days in Iraq.

I figured I would try to give you an idea of what it's like here a couple days at a whack. For those Marines who are on post consecutively and cant email you and explain what they see and do, the above is for them and for the Iraqi we are helping. The Ones who are working with us and the ones who cant do it for themselves.

Semper FI
Capt B

COMBAT UPDATE

Approximately 400 Iraqi Police candidates arrived in Baghdad early this morning from the Al Anbar Province to begin a ten week Iraqi Police training course. Half of the men were recruited from the Al Qa'im region in western Al Anbar and the other half from the provincial capital, Ar Ramadi. On Jan. 5 a suicide bomber attacked the recruitment center in Ramadi killing more than 30 applicants. Despite that attack, the recruits returned en masse today. There are approximately 1,200 Iraqi Police Officers patrolling the streets of Fallujah with 400 more attending the Baghdad Police Academy. This is the first large group of Iraqi Police candidates from Ramadi and the Western Euphrates River Valley to attend the Ministry of Interior's police training. U.S. Soldiers from 2nd Brigade Combat Team (28th Infantry Division) assisted in providing security for the convoy to Baghdad. Subsequent groups of candidates will attend this training course in the near future.

posted by Capt B at 8:13 AM

**thedrifter** · 01-20-06, 05:34 PM

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

THE MARINE

He’s Billy from down the street, your friends kid, your old student. He might have cut your grass you might have watched him as a kid. He left home to the unknown, was taught and tested until he earned the title. He has learned the meaning of Semper Fi. He doesn’t see black, white or brown, just green and we never leave green behind. He became comfortable being miserable and welcomes fear and knows how to deal with it. Sent around the world to do a man’s job and became a man in the process. He puts up with a **** ton of crap, *****es and moans but gets it done and better than most adults. Adapts to change easily like a chameleon and uses flexibility as a foundation. Smart, cunning and loyal. Will listen to what he is afraid to hear and acts on it. Will walk to hell and back with the ones he respects. Razor sharp, smart and shinned. A bit cocky, and mean as hell. Full of fight because that’s all some have. Single, orphaned; only son, outcasted he has joined the Marine family and for some that’s all there is. Proud disciplined, cleans up well and short haired. Keeps his body and mind tuned and improves both constantly. Follows direction even when he is too tired to know why. Proud enough to give his life for others but takes others if he has to. Returns home in the middle of the night, no welcoming bands, no flags, just his fellow Marines and gets ready to start all over the next day. He’s pushed his body to failure then continued and went further. Measures twice and cuts once. He can sleep on a rock, in the mud or out to sea. Walks in the footsteps of warriors past and isn’t afraid to stand and protect the weak. Because of warriors like him we are free.

He’s a son, a daddy, an assault man, a tanker, a brother, a daughter. A feeder to the hungry and a killer of evil. He wants to be different and make a difference. He’s the one you didn’t think would amount to much but has become one of the few. He wears his uniform proudly when it’s not popular; he stands watch while others rest. The mention of his name puts the fear of god into his enemy’s hearts. We send fewer men like him to do the work of many and expect greater results in a shorter time. He welcomes the impossible. He thrives on challenge and loves it when they say he can’t do it. Polite but a bit rough around the edges and crude. Smells like oil, grease, dirt and sweat. Likes his team logo on his arm and everywhere else. He does all of this with honor courage and commitment.

He’s the kid down the street, the little brother, the new born father, the uncle you met once. He’s the man your mother tells you about in all of the pictures that you would have liked to have met when he was alive. He’s your dad. He volunteered to do all of this for you and me; he’s the best you’ve seen because he’s a US Marine.

To all the Marines out there. Thank you & Semper Fi.

Capt B,
Taking Care of Business (TCB)

COMBAT UPDATE
FORWARD OPERATING BASE HIT, Iraq – Iraqi Army soldiers and approximately 1,000 Marines, Sailors and Soldiers with the 22nd Marine Expeditionary Unit (Special Operations Capable), are conducting counterinsurgency operations in the Al Anbar province. Operation Wadi Aljundi (Koa Canyon) began Jan. 15 in an effort to capture or kill insurgents and to locate and destroy their weapons caches in the Western Euphrates River Valley between the Jubbah/Baghdadi region and the city of Hit. This combined operation involves 1st Battalion, 2nd Brigade, 7th Iraqi Division, and the 22nd MEU’s ground combat element, Battalion Landing Team 1st Battalion, 2nd Marine Regiment.
The majority of the forces are conducting cordon and knock operations and searching areas of interest for weapons and insurgent activity along the Euphrates River, approximately 80 miles northwest of Baghdad. In addition to the Iraqi Army, Marines are also working with Iraqi Police in the Baghdadi region. More information on the operation will be released as it becomes available. The 22nd MEU (SOC) is operating under the tactical control of the 2nd Marine Division. For more information on the 22nd MEU (SOC) visit www.22meu.usmc.mil.

posted by Capt B at 9:14 AM

**thedrifter** · 01-20-06, 05:34 PM

Friday, January 20, 2006

TWO TRYING THE SAME THING

If your out of toilet paper you can print out the below section and use it because that’s all it deserves. I was going to use this entire post to talk about him but I would be charged with waste and abuse. He continues his BS about how “he” has “da plan” for troop reduction and such.

The vast majority of American troops will be out of Iraq by the end of this year. Who says so? Congressman John Murtha says so, and he explains his plan to make that happen to.- - - - No **** News Flash - - - -We will eventually leave Iraq, No **** because we are getting the job done! Not because WonTon Murtha woke up in the middle of the night and said “eureka” I got the plan, Ive seen the future. "It’s damaging the morale of the troops who are deployed and it’s damaging the morale of their families who believe in what they are doing to serve this country," Gen. Pace said. Murtha says Pace is frustrated. "He’s frustrated because he can’t meet the recruitment goals. Here’s what hurts recruitment. They’re rotated four and five times. They have no clear mission. It’s not what I say that hurts morale. This is long before I said anything that their recruiting had a problem." Murta’s aproach is so nasty its making my stoag taste bad! (The Marines have continued to make recruiting goals-not all branches but the Marines have. Over 50% of the soldiers here on their 3rd tour, volunteered to come back. Your soldiers are warriors, they want to be where “Its” at and serve their country. This is why they volunteered) An email to Murtha said:
"Congratulations! You are now an honorary member of al Qaeda. Your words have emboldened the enemy and endangered our troops on the ground. You have become the new Hanoi Jane," the sender wrote.
You can click HERE to read the entire interview where he continues to contradict himself and fight now what he once voted and approved in the past. He wants his cake and wants to eat it to. Watch when we do begin to depart Iraq, Mr “Plan” will say it was idea and his doing. Yea, it will be because of him and not us kicking the living dog **** out of these guys. He’ll probably want to do a movie about it.

And now the rest of the story………………………

Osama Bin Laden **** stain has crawled out of his cowardly hole again to grace the world with more gibberish on a video tape. Its hell making a video in a cave you’ve been crapping in for months on end but what a sport, he cranked one out just for us.
To summarize his void of life speech, he tries to hit you all at home by saying troops are committing suicide because we are in the dilemma of facing mines in the area or charges for not fighting and that we are discouraged because the American people arnt behind supporting us. Uhhh, ok…man he needs to fire his public relations guy in the cave with him because he sucks. But instead of me trying to tell you about the article we have our VERY own No **** News “Big Daddy” (who looks a lot like Elvis) from our NSN language department here to translate what Osama **** Stain is really saying in his video, take it away BD……………Thankyouverymuch “B”…..This is the clearest translation…….
My message to you is about the war in Iraq and Afghanistan and the way to end it. I had not intended to speak to you about this issue but, we are in some serious deep **** here. I am so screwed as Im hooked up to a couple dialysis machines I can’t even pee by myself. My wife has left me and my truck won’t start and my own dog bit me yesterday, I knew I should have never gotten a dog, I hate dogs. I told abib No dogs but he was so cute. I haven’t seen the color of the sky in almost two years and when I did get to look outside all I saw were circling American aircraft and I was shat on by an angry pigeon. I hate pigeons now too. It appears I may have bit off a little more than I bargained for and every time I turn around there is a damn US soldier or worse US Marine trying to kill me. How can I clean my rugs with this type of attention? May a hundred camels spit in their soup!
I am trying to get the American people to fight the war effort and make the infidel giants get out of my garden as my tomatoes will never grow with them living in my garden. You know how much I love fresh vegetables. It isn’t working and they are determined until they finish what they have started. Those silly Marines are too big to get into my Sadam like hole and catch me anyway, may camel dung fall into their helmets. All of the sane people in America like Hillary and Kennedy know what I speak and are also helping me by fighting the angry Texan. I will try to make a deal with infidels and develop a truce. This is the best course of action as I am out of Haji bread and my cave has become the Time Square for pigeons. I hate pigeons. Mr Bush we have your silly Marines surrounded, you must give up!. (I know we don’t abib but they will listen to what ever I say on your brother salams news station CNN.) You have no other options as we are winning here even though there is a new Super Walmart in Khandahar, this means nothing!! Abib, they have such fresh vegetables there don’t they, and no dogs. Praise Walmart! We will remain patient in fighting you, God willing, until the one whose time has come dies first……..ok so I have a head start on you, drink my own urine and have mistaken my old shoe for a squash but I am determined. We will not escape the fight as long as we hold our weapons in our hands. (abib did those silly Marines Super Glue my weapon to my hand again??) May vultures eat their Doublepounder Cheeseburgers and vomit in their boots!!! OK bye bye for now time to sweep cave, you get out now must continue to clean up the pigeon sheet. Abib how do you turn this stooopid camera off?????
Keep Attacking!
Capt B - Semper Fi
(TCB)

COMBAT UPDATE
Iraqi Security Force soldiers and U.S. Forces in Ramadi repulsed attacks on military bases beginning at approximately 3:45 p.m. in the provincial capital of Ar Ramadi, approximately 100 km west of Baghdad. The attacks by insurgents were a combination of small arms and mortar fire which coincided with the Iraqi Government’s announcement of results from the first democratic election under the new constitution. Iraqi soldiers from 3rd Battalion, 1st Public Order Brigade along with U.S. soldiers and Marines defeated the attacks within an hour using a combination of small arms fire, medium and heavy weapons and preplanned aviation assets. Last week, military officials began announcing the possibility of violence by al Qaeda in Iraq-led insurgents following the announcement of the election results.

posted by Capt B at 11:50 AM

**thedrifter** · 01-23-06, 06:53 AM

BY THE PEOPLE, FOR THE PEOPLE

Iraq, like America continues through its growing pains and tribulations to become a new nation. Great strives have been accomplished throughout the country at the expense of Iraqi, Coalition and International forces over the past year. Like America it has become a new nation conceived through liberty and freedom.

Its amazing how solid history tends to hold true throughout time. Like America, Iraq is growing as a country and we can see the same growing pains in Iraq that we experienced here in America. Your service members continue to make sacrifice, reinforce dedication to what they believe in and continue to make valuable gains for the people of Iraq. Their efforts here in Iraq and Afghanistan will not be forgotten and will forever be placed in our history as selfishness acts of freedom and gratitude and it will never be forgotten what we accomplished here, for the people.

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth. Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg Address

Like the Iraqi people, we in America need to always remember what we have and not to take it for granted. It is easy to take your way of life for granted. Your means of travel, your house, your job and the simple things in life you have never appreciated unless you've done without. Imagine what it would be like without them. Imagine what it would be like without freedom. With your continued support your service members have been the military force to help Iraq, but you the people of America people have been the spirit to help a nation grow, both their and ours.

Keep Attacking!
Capt B

**thedrifter** · 01-24-06, 03:20 PM

Giants Among Men

By LtCol Craig Covert, USMCR

I interviewed some pretty incredible Marines over the last two visits with 3/7. They are typical of young fleet Marines. Cocky and filled with bravado, they call themselves an "old guy" or a "senior Marine" as a Lance Corporal (E-3) or Corporal (E-4). I chuckle to myself, as many were merely toddlers when my troops and I deployed for our first wartime experience during Operation Desert Shield. They enlisted in 2003, their recollection of September 11th simply a distraction that captivated their parents while their attention was focused on their next algebra exam or football game at school.

Barely out of high school, the youth of these young men is apparent. They love their video games and Sony Play Stations; they boast about their girlfriends and make plans to get an apartment with 3 or 4 of their friends when they return to CONUS, splitting their expenses to save money for beer and parties. Yet outside the wire, they magically transform into completely different individuals. Gone is the boyish grin, the horseplay and the thoughts of home. These attributes are replaced with steely grit and determination, strength and courage. They are all business, every bit of energy and every ounce of concentration focused on the mission and the safety of their fellow Marines.

These young men have experienced things that took my generation an entire career to experience. I'd like to mention a few of these young men, the future leaders of our Corps, and the reason we are still able to enjoy our freedoms at home, safe from the threats these Marines face on a daily basis.

There's SSgt. Andrew Yellope, Weapons Company, 3/7. He joined the Corps at age 17 and was deployed to Afghanistan during the initial phase of Operation Enduring Freedom (OEF). One evening, while sitting in a defensive position near Khandahar airfield, an illumination round set the brush on fire in front of his unit's position. Over the next hour, twenty-six mines proceeded to blow up from the flames, the area laden with mines and unexploded ordnance. He escaped without a scratch and currently faces a similar threat of unexploded mines and IED's in the mean streets of Ramadi.

One month ago, Corporal Matthew Conley's platoon from Weapons Company was serving as the Battalion quick reaction force, or QRF in Ramadi. Lima Company hit and IED, then shortly thereafter, a secondary IED went off in the same vicinity. Corporal Conley and his squad arrived on scene within 7 minutes from receiving the call and assisted the severely wounded Marines, some with legs and feet missing from the effect of the explosion. They quickly hauled the wounded to "Charlie-Med," the surgical facility at Camp Ramadi, only one Marine losing his life due to the quick reaction of Marines like Corporal Conley.

Kilo Company's Corporal James Dodson, Jr. received his baptism by fire on April 17, 2003, during the battle for Husayba, a small town along the Syrian border. The city was crawling with organized bands of insurgents suspected to number around 300 strong. While pushing through the city on foot, Marines in another squad were wounded and Corporal Dodson's team filled in the gap, taking heavy fire from insurgents who had set up sandbagged machine gun positions. Fighting the way through the cramped alley ways, he and his team spent the next three nights on a rooftop, sitting on overwatch to ensure the insurgents couldn't escape 3/7's noose slowly tightening around the city.

Corporal Adam Frickey, India Company 3/7, was conducting a patrol near an abandoned house in Ramadi and got a funny feeling when he passed an abandoned building. Taking a quick peek inside, he found himself staring at an insurgent strong point that had been recently vacated. Lying inside the room was a box containing 14 mortar rounds, grenades, and other ordnance and weapons that could have been used against his buddies or himself. Shortly afterward, his company conducted a sweep near the Euphrates that recovered approximately 90 AK-47's, countless rocket propelled grenades (RPG's) and launchers. All in a days work.

Like Corporal Dodson, Sergeant Ryan Bilbao, Platoon Guide for Kilo Company, found himself embroiled in battle with insurgents in the streets of Husayba in April, 2003. He recalled receiving a quick warning order and loading onto trucks to conduct a sweep of the city. Under sustained small arms fire, his platoon walked block by block to clear houses and building through the middle of the city, from east to west, all while being engaged by insurgents hidden within the city walls. In addition to his standard combat load, Sgt. Bilbao carried nearly 1400 rounds of ammo for his M-249 squad automatic weapon (SAW), a total weight in excess 100 lbs. He scanned overhead as Cobra gunships and FA-18's rained fire from above onto the insurgents and their hideouts.

Cpl. Phillip Gutierrez recalled his first ride into battle on the back of an MTVR 7-ton truck. Excited and scared at the same time, he compared the experience to the opening scene of "Saving Private Ryan", where actor Tom Hanks waits aboard a naval landing craft enroute to the beaches of Normandy, not knowing what to expect when the ramp of the landing craft opens up as they hit the beach. Cpl. Gutierrez and the other young Marines knew not quite what to expect, riding quietly into battle as sniper rounds snapped above their heads, the sounds of battle getting closer as the trucks rumbled along. Only hours later, he'd gained firsthand knowledge of the fright and excitement of battle.

Cpl. Jordy Vega, a Texas native who graduated from boot camp in 2003, is on his third combat tour 3 short years. Shortly after arriving in Ramadi in September 2004, his HMMWV was hit by an IED. The vehicle was carrying 9 Marines, protected only by the hillbilly armor installed around the crew compartment. Rolling down the road, their lives were changed forever when the IED was triggered, a bright flash of light and wall of heat hitting the occupants full force. Cpl. Vega awoke to find an injured and unconscious Marine lying atop of him in the back of the burning vehicle. Under small arms fire, he helped drag a number of his wounded comrades to a casualty collection point, himself wounded in the leg from the shrapnel of the IED. He proudly showed me the scar on his right ankle, a permanent reminder of that day and his time in Iraq. A purple heart will adorn his uniform in the rear, a badge of honor among Marines.

Major Bradford Tippett, the Battalion Operations Officer, summed up the actions of the Marines in his unit who do the job "no one else wants to do." To liberally quote Major Tippett, "…the Marines do a job they don't fully understand, but they know has to be done. The odds are often against them. They are scared and afraid but go out and do what's required of them. The same kid, the same young men you wear out for getting drunk and stupid at 29 Palms is the same kid, who after a firefight, has done things that only giants of men do when they are here. They've done things we've only read about in the annals of history; that we've read about in the award citations from Guadalcanal and the Chosin Resevoir, things we wondered how anyone could do. I've seen it. I've watched these men, these Marines, do extraordinary things. They do phenomenal tasks that the American public will never have a full appreciation for, but should forever be appreciative of. These Marines are doing what they won't. They are giants among men."

**thedrifter** · 01-24-06, 06:48 PM

Tuesday, January 24, 2006
THE TRUE BOYS IN BLUE

I received this in an e-mail from Capt B and I thought that I would share it with you.
THE TRUE BOYS IN BLUE
The other night I heard a song called “ Have You For Gotten “ by Darryl Worley. If you get a chance to hear it, I’m sure you’ll like it. I started to think about my freedom and the high price that’s been paid for it. I began to think of the battles you have fought, lives that have been lost and families that have touched for that price of freedom. All the tears and blood that have soaked into the ground as the price of freedom we all take for granted.
I thought about that ten year old boy, who just became head of the household because he just learned his father had fallen fighting the British during the Revolutionary War. How scared a thirteen year old young man must have felt during the Civil war his brothers on one side, father on the other & townsmens around him. In his cross hairs his best friend, fighting alongside the Union Army.
I began to think about the window mother down the street from my grandmother’s house. She lost all three of her sons during World war One. How many empty, lonely nights did she cry herself to sleep ?
What about the sixteen year old young man bones shaking so bad from the icy cold water splashing him in the face and blowing off the Normandy frontlines. He’s praying to himself, hoping he makes it home to his bride.
I drop a tear for all the men that walked for days during the Great Bataan March.That freshly graduated high school eighteen year old man, who went off to war in 1968. His parents are still waiting to this day for him to walk in the back door.
I mostly remember the Delta & Special Force Rangers being dragged through the streets of Somalia.
You have made more personal sacrifices than I can even began to imagine.
These words, HONOR,COURAGE & COMMITMENT mean more to you than words can express. I mean you guys are the best of the best ! Toughest of the toughest ! You move in the shadows like demons in the night, stalking your prey like a wild tiger. When the timing is right you strike like a Kentucky lighting storm.
You see, I grew up in the back yard dirt like any every other normal boy. Playing army digging trenches, tunnels, bases, with sixty-five helicopters and about one hundred US Marines on my side.
Of course I always won, because I had you guys on my side.All I thought about when I was growing up, I would follow in my fathers footsteps, joining one of the toughest elite force in the world. So I could become one of the best America had to offer. Standing toe to toe with my brothers on the frontlines defending this great nation. To know that feeling of putting my life in someones else’s hands and theirs in my hands. I mean you guys are incredible !
You’ll go in a moments notice, leaving your loved ones on the docks, eyes full of tears. Hiding your emotions so deep in the bottom of your soul. Pushing your bodies to the max, and your state of mind to the breaking point.
You’re the first to go last to know, but always willing to fight. You’ll fight for those who can’t fight for themselves, who are to week to fight back. You’ll travel to far off islands and strange countries, to fight for total strangers. You’ll fight for us back home who can’t fight.
I’ve seen the news with anti-war protests and human shields, Americans going to Iraq. I just have to shake my head. I sometimes wonder if they are would step out of their three million dollar Malibu homes? Locking their luxury vehicles in the garage and tossing the keys into the deep blue sea? Canceling their country club membership and winter trips to Aspen? Are they willing to lace up your boots & run 1.5 miles in 13 minutes?
They might know how it feels to watch that first drip of sweat roll off your forehead, in a push up position on hot black asphalt in the middle of July. With a drill instructor screaming in your ear, less than two inches from your face. You watch that drip of sweat hit the asphalt.They might know that victorious, joyful look in your eyes, when dawn breaks on graduation day. The satisfaction that you made it and no one can take that away from you. They just might realize how much pain, blood and raging emotions you have pushed through your body, to see that dawn break on graduation day.
I’m serious as a heart attack when I say “ WE STAND BESIDE OUR TROOPS & SUPPORT WHAT THEY DO. LEAVE NO MAN BEHIND !"
There have been some things said over the years about the Marines Corps. When I read these quotes, it hits my bones & I say a small prayer for our guys.
They remind me why you’re standing on that line and they make me proud to be an American."
Behold a pale horse and upon him sat death & hell followed “ God“
The safest place in Korea was right behind a platoon of Marines, Lord how they could fight. “ MGen Frank E Low USA Korea 26 January 1952
“ Come on you sons of *censored*es you want to live forever ?" GySgt Daniel J “ Dan Daly"USMC near Lucy Le Bocage as hed led the 5th Marine attack into Belleau Wood 6th June 1918
Sincerely,
Josh W.
Downey, Ca
P.S. That’s just where I stand !!
And, I stand there with him!

**thedrifter** · 01-25-06, 08:25 AM

Bada Bing"

Dear Gang,

I have received requests before to talk about the “Bing” and what we have here. First of all, I live and work in a tower, not a pretty tower but never the less we call it home. On top of this old control tower there were tons of busted air conditioning units, scrap wood and basically left over junk from when the Iraqi’s had this joint. When my boss showed up here last year, that is where they would smoke cigars at night and drink near-beer.

Of course being the creative, improve your spaces, Bob Villa has nothing on them type guys, they decided to build a bar. Not any bar, but an all ranks social hangout where you could enjoy great company, have a pleasant view of the base and get away from the doldrums of everyday life here. To start they had to chunk all of this crap off the top of a 100 foot building down into an abandoned parking lot in the back with a big metal dumpster there. It all had to come down, that took a day. Then there was a big pile of wood left over from when the Army vacated, so they dug through that to find the right pieces to form a roof, but with the high winds, it would fly off like a sail, so next came a frame around the roof. They attached cammie netting, built benches and a bar, but what to name it???

The crew here watched all 5 seasons of “The Soprano’s” on DVD and decieded to name it “The Bada Bing”, the strip club on the show. There is a kid downstairs who is an incredible artist and he freehanded the painting of the Bing girl and boom we have a bar. This place complete with music and a T.V. became the hangout on the base. My Aunt in L.A. thought that we were getting drunk everynight here when she saw all this pictures of me with a "Becks" in my hand. Little did she realize they weren't real beer...

When I arrived in Oct on this base as the AirBoss, I thought about what great digs these were but it needed some fun stuff to go along with it. So I designed coins and shirts that folks could buy to remember it by. We have had many famous guests up there to include Ollie North (although he refused to have any pictures next to the girl on the wall), some MWR cheerleaders and some gals called the Perfect Angels.

Now Marines across this A.O. all have a place to hang out but I can say without a doubt in my Military mind that ours is the best!! One base has a place called “Club 9” where they smoke cigars and chip in to drink near-beer. It’s Club 9 because they put it in building 9 and it’s about 4x4 tiny closet room so after about an hour in there, your underwear reeks of stale cigar smoke. Another base I was stationed on, would go on top of one of the buildings and watch helicopters fly by to land from there.

I can tell you that as a “Staff guy”, I am to old to kick in doors, so I contribute in different ways to the war effort here. When I go back to the states, some of the fondest memories I will carry with me are up at the “Bing” watching a College football game on Saturday nights with the sounds of generators chugging along on one side of us and choppers flying by with the “Womp, Woomp, Woooomp” as the blades pound the air into submission.

I can guarantee you that there are Marines and Army Soldiers improving their spaces and making a nice little “slice of heaven”. Those of you who have served will probably have flashbacks of the great place that you hung out too. A place where you blew off steam and deals were brokered. This is what makes guys so tight. When the next AssClown on TV says that morale sucks over here, look him in the eye and ask him if he ever smoked a Cee-Gar at the Bing!! You all take care and keep up the fantastic support WE see from here!!! OOOHHHH RRRhhhaaaa

S/F
Taco

**thedrifter** · 01-25-06, 06:42 PM

THE YOUNG MARINE BREAKS THE CODE

Type type type, ="<$BlogURLTyPingSuCks#@$>">…..HTML code is FUN! I try to tell myself as I continue to get severely beasted on entering some good HTML upgrades for the Blog. So as I continue to hack away at the computer with a dull hatchet and say nasty things about its mother, I seek help from one of our computer Jedi's. After pulling a standard mind trick on me……….Sir, you will not figure it out, got to bed as he waves his hand. We continue our conversation and he mentions how he is trying to get into school and increase his education. Like many young Marines he's a sharp guy, not just because of his computer skills but as his overall character makes him well balanced. So instead of putting the post I had ready, it can wait as below is Sgt M's essay.

After you read it you too will agree America is lucky to have these young warriors on our side and so eager to serve, ……..Sir, you are taking too much time and babbling.(hand wave)………..Knock off the hand waving already MR jedi, your making me tired.

When I joined the Marine Corps in February of 2002, I was really looking for a way to pay for college. The college I attended for just one semester went bankrupt, causing me to lose my full scholarship. I signed the enlistment papers never thinking about going to war, even though the United States was attacked by terrorists just a few months earlier.

I drifted through the first year of my military career unmoved by what was happening around me. Units were deploying, there was a war in Afghanistan, and tensions were mounting in Iraq. I went through recruit training, combat training, and my military occupational specialty school, each putting more and more emphasis on being prepared to deploy.

My first duty station was at the 2d Marine Division, a Marine Corps infantry division. For the first six months after my arrival on Camp Lejeune, I watched the wars on the evening news. Nothing about the either war, Afghanistan or Iraq, had affected me personally yet.
One day in the summertime, shortly after the invasion of Iraq, I was told to assist in the preparation of a memorial service that was for Marines who died in the first wave invasion of Iraq. I figured I would be setting up chairs and tents for the ceremony. That day, however, changed my life; my duty was much different from what I pictured in my mind. As we ushered the families of the fallen heroes, I realized how much had been given by these Marines. I was selected to accompany a young woman, who was approximately 20 years old, carrying two children. I took one of the children, and she wrapped her arm inside mine as we walked forward to the memorial service.

We were seated side by side with the rest of the mourning families. The death of her husband was being represented in true military fashion: a kevlar helmet, wearing a set of goggles, perched on top of a rifle that was standing at attention muzzle down at the heals of the boots that the young man wore in Iraq. A set of dog-tags dangled from the hand grip of the rifle. This was one of twenty-six displays in front of the families and the formation of over two thousand Marines in attendance.

They play taps on a trumpet when a three-man detail of Marines lowers a flag at sunset. I have since heard it several times, but that day marked the first time that I heard taps being played when Marines, not our nation's colors, were being laid to rest. The young woman found temporary comfort in crying on my shoulder, though I knew it could never take the place of the husband she was laying to rest. I cried with her, for I felt I had lost a brother. It was then that I realized what the Marine Corps was all about.

There had been talk about our division deploying to the war in Iraq, but the dates just kept being pushed back further and further. After two years on station, I could have requested to be moved to a different unit or a different base. Just before I made the decision to change units, our date was set: our division was finally deploying for Operation Iraqi Freedom. We were going to war.

No matter what kind of danger I just put myself in, I could not coax myself out of being faithful, especially to those who had made the ultimate sacrifice. My decision to stay in the division a little longer was rewarded with the opportunity to go to war in Iraq with my fellow Marines, my best friends. At first, there was nervousness throughout the platoon from not knowing what to expect, but we were there for each other. We talked about what our jobs were going to be and we focused on doing those jobs perfectly. By the time we got on the bus in late February of 2005, we were ready.

Eleven months later, we are nearing the end of our tour and I am still here past the end of my four year contract. Not because I was forced; rather, I am here because I volunteered to stay so that I could be with my friends. Today we said goodbye to a couple of guys from my section, the first of many. Unlike some goodbyes in the past, these ones are cheerful because these men are going home to be with their families, not to be buried. In the last year, we learned to live comfortably together, work seamlessly together, fight fights together, celebrate happy times together, and mourn the loss of our friends together. We became a family, however we are going home with one less member than we came here with. But like any family, that one member will always be with us in our hearts.

I joined the Marine Corps over four years ago for the college money. Now that I am about to finish my tour, I am reflecting on what I got out of it. Yes, I will get the college money, but what I was given is much deeper than the materialistic values. I have the advantage of knowing that I served faithfully with the greatest fighting force in the world. I have the benefit of knowing that I was part of the strongest brotherhood known to man, a brotherhood whose members would gladly go to war with you and lay their lives on the line for you. I have the profit of knowing that I retain some of the strongest friendships that could ever exist, friendships that most people will never be lucky enough to experience in their entire lives. I have the honor of knowing that I am a United States Marine.

Thanks Sgt M for sending me your essay, it's a pleasure to serve here in Iraq with you and the many other outstanding Marines like you.

Semper Fi
Capt B
Time for a CeeGar!!

**thedrifter** · 01-26-06, 08:00 AM

Redman and Rotten eggs

From Sandgram's Blog
Jan. 25, 2006

Dear Gang,

Well in the light of my glass half full, here is a post that hopefully will bring a smile to your face. This happened three months ago and is a bit of old news. The hardest part about writing is to make sure I don't violate any operational security directives. That's why you may only read the mundane side of life here and not the action. Although if I was in charge of the country, I would take all the bad guys from the prison a couple miles away and make them form a nice chain gang. Can you imagine, HOT PINK jumpsuits, chained up together in a line picking up trash on the highway?? That would cut down on two things, the amount of chow we have to ship in here to feed these punks (can't feed 'em when they're dead) and clear the road of IED's. Now we can also offer our criminals the same choice, go to Iraq and clean up trash and if you survive a year of this, we'll give you a pardon. Most won't make it…how can they survive without their cable TV and A.C., at least they could have the Man love from these guys over here (women are for babies, men are for fun). This would go over like a pregnant pole-vaulter of course with the ACLU and every other group. But this is wishful thinking and the subject of many "what if?" conversations we have over here.

I have a buddy over here and for security sake we'll call him "Jim Adams". We served together in Okinawa almost 12 years ago and I was on hand for him to be promoted to LtCol on the 1st. He is one of the most talented writers out there and one day he'll put a screen play or book out that will go straight to the top. I would love to write about an incident that almost made his promotion to Major impossible years ago but that would take about 5 pages to give it justice. Let's just say that my sense of humor and ability to disguise my voice caused the NCIS unit to look into my friend for a letter that was written by him to the editor of Stars and Stripes oh say Dec 25th 1994 for those of you able to pull those papers up on line. Since he is reading this on line, I will have to get permission to tell about it since it involves the Base General taking a special interest in "Jim" and his natural talents.

I was able to catch a Helicopter over to his base the night before and smoke a couple of Cigars in "Club 9" which is nice but very small. It was a great time and I enjoyed taking an all day walking tour of his base. Lots of old Iraqi stuff there (found an AK-47 ) and cool trash all over. The return home to my base which is very short normally took me on a tour of every base we have here and lasted four hours. Here is what it's like to ride in the back of a CH-46, the twin rotor helicopter. My wild ride home.

It's night time when you arrive at the Flight line, ear plugs are issued and you wait until the engines are started. They crank up the APU (Aux power Unit) which causes this giant flame to shoot out the back of the aircraft. Once the engines start, the rotor blades slowly begin to spin. It always amazed me that the blades never hit each other. Two sayings come to mind," a helicopter is made up of a thousand moving pieces in close formation", and "I would rather have Venereal Disease written in my health record then Helo hours in my pilot logbook." Once it's started you move into the back via a small ramp that goes up and down. Now see the -46 has open windows up front so the crew can man the machine guns there, thus allowing a constant breeze into the back of the bird. Really bad when it's 110 F outside, decent when it's in the 80's and downright freezing in the desert nighttime when the temps hit the 50's to the 30's. As you sit on these red web seats (very uncomfortable) you are weighed down with the 30 odd pounds of body armor, gun, helmet etc. I put my goggles on and ear plugs in expecting to catch a nap before I arrived. There is a constant hum of the engines, and as the blades turn they make a sort of dull thud report, almost like a machine gun going off only it does this in cycles. I'm just getting use to this rhythm, when the MACHINE GUNS do go off. They are blazing .50 cal rounds down and the first thought is "cripes, there is only coke can thick aluminum behind me, please Lord if I'm shot, make it a John Kerry wound" Well it's ok; they were test firing the guns to make sure they worked right.

We go to another base to pick up some people including this big burly Army guy who they put on my left side closest to the cockpit. This turned out to be a good thing because I was expecting a short flight but ended up on the round robin that lasted four hours with about 40 degree wind howling into the back of the cargo section where we all are. Not thinking I'd be stuck on this ride from hell, all I had on was my uniform and the flak jacket with my helmet. After freezing the first hour, I dug into my bag and grabbed my spare socks to use as mittens, then my tee shirt to wrap around my head, that did ok, but my legs were two ice cubes, so I pulled my towel out and put that around my numb stubs. OOOOhh much better, even better was having this Army guy sitting there as my personal wind deflector. Lessons learned, yes it's not super hot in the day here and that means it's cold as heck at night in the desert and since the temperature drops 2 degrees per thousand feet in altitude on average, that means better bundle up or you will be thawing out for the next two days. Next stop, this Iraqi soldier gets on the plane. Now this guy has a helmet about two sizes to big, a small flak vest and really bad breath as he leans over to my face and yells "we go where?" Me, thinking I have some chewing gum in my bag somewhere. "Where are you going?" He screams back, "where we go?" now I'm really thinking about the gum to give him, "Where do you need to go?" He snuggles in closer and says, "I go where we go", well there you are, along for the ride, not much more you can say about that. I turned on my flashlight and looked at his papers just to be clear where this guy IS going. The -46 takes off again, next stop, the hydraulic pump comes on adding another whine to the already loud cargo bay. My eyes are closed, I'm trying to think of that time I broke down in Rota Spain on the beach, that was a good time…please warm up. I smell something like a cross between two day old chewing tobacco and foul rotten eggs. I open my eyes and peek out of my makeshift face cover from my tee shirt. It's my buddy to the right of me with his face right next to mine. "WE HERE", no no no, "NOT HERE" I scream back, wrong stop for him. My Army buddy gets off that stop which took away all of my cover and concealment from the wind. Now I'm really cold.

Finally I was able to dig out the pack of Big Red gum some supporter out there sent to us and gave him a piece. This was good but his teeth were chattering so bad, I think he probably bit his tongue once or twice. They are nice guys, bad breath but nice guys. After taking a long hot shower, I brought my body core temperature back up to normal allowing my manhood to drop back out the deep recesses of my body. Life is good… Anyway, that's what you might expect if you take a long chopper ride...

Until next time,

S/F
Taco

**thedrifter** · 01-27-06, 10:01 AM

Friday, January 27, 2006

JUST ANOTHER DAY
What was your day like? Yea, so was mine…………well, I bet ours was a bit different. I take for granted that you don’t know what our day is like. This is our way of life here and sometimes you think that’s all there is. You back in the states……..your in another world entirely. Here in Iraq you have your routine and you don’t think about the states or at least you try not to. Over the past year here its almost like the states is make believe. In Afghani, it was all mud huts and generator power. Few cars and all the other healthy stuff that comes with a third world country. Bacteria that eats the flesh, things that grow in the dirt I wouldn’t mention at a biker bar and its not if you get sick but just how bad you get sick. HA!! I laugh at you Montezuma’s revenge! You little girlie man virus!

Your day may have entailed getting up, going eating breakfast (probably not for what ever reason) hurrying off to work, dealing with delusional idiots on the road who ate one too many stupid pills or are still asleep. Or perhaps you had a special day where your car didn’t operate correctly and the **** storm began there. Once getting to work you put in an honest day (had to listen to that damn big mouth down from you, who you might want to drop kick into a four lane highway) and for you female gender out there he probably has hit on you time again and wont get the hint when you call him Eric Estrada…you say “idiot” as you have mental thoughts of charging a Browning Urban Assault black tint shot gun and aiming in on him….snap out of it woman! You boss is an idiot and you clinch your fists together and say in a mumbled stuttered voice…..give me another report and I’ll, I’ll burn building down……..

An overpriced lunch that some 18 year old threw together for you…….I cant describe where that could go or what is really in it. Back to work to finish up the day to only deal with even more idiots, dodge the bus driver who doesn’t see you or swerve to prevent a side swipe by the driver changing lanes without looking (no more pills idiot! ) . Get home, ponder whats for dinner and try to salvage some family time before you pass out. Man you guys are screwed, Im not coming back, end of post…………

Our day or I should say routine is a bit different. Yea I know we are in a war zone. But going back to what you are doing there in the states may be scary as hell. At least here when I hear an explosion, I know its either incoming, outgoing, IED, SVBIED, etc etc. We get up, now in this time of year its still dark and you get moving. Some days you are the windshield and sometimes you’re the bug. Sleeping in, forgetaboutit! But wait, before we go any further let me tell you about 0100 when the IEDs went off or the incoming hit and you use to get up and get your business suit on and now your like……uh..oh it was and IED and far enough away and go back to sleep. Days are different out here. Sometimes your off base and Taking Care of Business (TCB) but while your off base the paperwork beast awaits for your return. Yes, there is always a chance of having a rocket come out of no where and turn you into a stain on the wall but hey that’s why we say when it your time its your time. Your aware of it but you don’t let it drive your actions.

So no **** there we were……….hehe, the day had been going good. Nice quiet, a time that we are back on base and not out and about. Cleaning up a few things and was able burn a stoag or two……..maybe three as we field day the area (cleaned up). I can hear my mother NOW, those are bad for you………..yes, but so are RPGs!! Everything is freaking GRAND when a launch is heard (rocket launch) and the subsonic flight of the rocket cutting through the air is very distinctive. Its not headed directly for us but it still makes you run for your shelter. Impact is about 200-300 yrds away and it’s a good one. Shortly after the impact our counter battery is all over them dumping “justice” on top of them. Eat that **** birds!!!! A bit later I think then as things cool off, I should go PT and go for a run.

Im telling you there must be a Haji appointed to watch me for when I go to the head and tell his buddies to launch the mortars as soon as I go in. I fooled them for awhile with my double………..not! No sooner do I get one foot outa the shower after my run. Crump, Crump……….Crump. I think to myself, those little mother Ffffff (sorry kids) scratches as I hug the ****ter floor. Nothing to be excited about as the head floor is pretty nasty. Floor scum or shrapnel, scum or shrapnel…….tuff one. I take the floor scum. Small arms and RPG fire breaks out following the incoming. Well there isn’t that special……they decided to conduct a nice coordinated attack just off base (said in the church lady voice). So I finish toweling off and figure I’ll stay put for a minute as the couple min small arms fight subsides and the facility Im in is bunkered protected. There begins a lull so I figure, ok Im gonna make a run for my hooch. One step outside and just as I do a RPG impacts off base and the small arms begins again (Im so going to get that guy watching me) and as I begin my sprint for the hooch, two small arms rounds are distinctly heard going right over my head. OK, this looks like a good place to seek cover as I duck behind some sand barriers. Ho hum life is grand as all hell breaks loose across the way. One of our guards waved to me from his bunker in full gear. I wave back with a sarcastic “Hello” Smart Ass as he has a big **** eating grin on his face as he watches me do the “oh **** sprint” behind cover. Once things go into a lull I begin my shower shoe shuffle back to my hooch once again I think, man that would suck to buy the farm in the head. REAL great. Tomb stone reads “died in Iraq fighting soap scum” GRAND, Fierce!!

The funny thing is that “Taco” was supposed to be here the day this was going down. We would have been looking at each other laughing at each other like little school girls I bet as **** hit the fan. This reminded me of the time about 7-8 months ago when I got back on base late and went for a run at night. It was the summer time and my mother continued to ask me if I had been going to church. I said nope, I don’t like going to gatherings of large amounts of people cause it’s a mortar magnet. I still got a lecture. So as I ran I passed the church with her words in my head. No sooner do I get 100 yrds past it a bad sand storm develops quickly and its hard to see and dark. Then I heard lightening, or I thought but it was yet another rocket attack and guess where it hit? Yip,the church. Bad Haji’s very baaaaaaad.

Evenings are usually pretty mellow. Many finish up work around 1900-2000 as almost a way for the time to pass quicker if your busy. Then maybe a nice stoag while the constant prayers wale about, sending their propaganda through the city….Americans are bad……bla bla bla….or ……stay inside so you don’t get hurt during upcoming attacks against the infidels. The summer time it was still in the 90s around 2000 and we would be outside in PT gear but now with an occasional rain and it dropping into the 30’s we be loading up on the snivel gear to hang out at night. However its amazing how pretty the sunsets can be but know on the other end of that there is so much of a lack for life here as well. We work seven days a week with a partial day on Sunday and you may not do anything in the morning but work until the late hours of the night. You’re a Marine 24/7.

Here the days are exciting and the nights, if quiet, then they can get exciting. Your days although crazy will get quiet. What was your day like? Yea, so was mine…………

Keep Attacking!
Semper Fi
Capt B....moving towards a CeeGar!

**thedrifter** · 01-31-06, 01:01 PM

Bad Timber

Dear Gang,
There is a fellow back home In California, who is doing his job. Writing. I would say that he is very successful and with his last little OpEd piece, will get a lot of attention for a long time. I give him credit because he did his job, right, wrong or indifferent on how you feel, emotions aside, he has you talking. Now I feel sorry for the S.O.B. because what he wrote might be the straw that broke the “Camels” back for some guy that has been over here in Iraq fighting and he might go pay this nameless person a visit one night. I believe that he wrote this to get people fired up and mad on purpose. Why? The Attention of course!!! My Mom said “doesn’t this make you mad son?” And I can say “No”. Now, would I waste my urine on the guy if he was burning in his wrecked SUV out in L.A.? Probably not, but then again, I’m trained to help everyone so I might toss a couple of drops on him before I rescued his sorry “I hate the military, don’t know what is going on in the world” Ass.

Since he is now nameless, we’ll call him Mr. AssClown. I have more respect for the Anti- war guys who have actually been embedded with the troops here and taken fire. At least they have an understanding of what’s going on. We are fighting religious nuts over here. They have no uniforms, they follow no politics, they are just crazy religious Zealots (Chuckleheads) who are willing to give their life up for no good reason. They would kill this nameless Assclown in a Los Angeles minute (might take hours if you count freeway time) and every other none believer because they are not the same religion.

I have no problem with Mr. Assclown running his pie-hole and spewing madness, he is only doing what he has the right to do in the U.S. and what we as the Military are paid to protect this right for him to do. We have a Government, a President and leaders who allow this form of free speech to happen. If you don’t like something, then change it!! Get out and vote to make a change. That is what they have done here in Iraq. They voted to put the person in power who they feel will help them best. That is a privilege we have as Americans, but so few take advantage of during the elections. Too busy I guess, maybe the traffic was too bad; it’s easier to ***** out loud at Starbucks while you’re drinking you low fat double diet Pepsi latte’ with just a hint of Madagascar spice while you watch Communist News Network on cable television.

I will get off my soap box now, but really, just treat this nameless indigent like the tree in the Forest… if no one is around and it falls, does it make a noise??? You guys have a great day and if you are reading this Mr. AssClown, I understand you were doing your job, but try to remember the next police officer who pulls you over, just may be a former Jarhead, so keep your anti-military comments to yourself during that stop. But if you ever desire to see what we do and feel the urge to strap on a flakvest, we’ll be here for you 24/7. OOOOHHHH RRRRRRhhhaaaa MARINES!!

S/F,
Taco

**thedrifter** · 01-31-06, 01:02 PM

Monday, January 30, 2006
"Chunky"

Dear Gang,
You know, call signs and acronyms are abundant in the Military and the Marines so I thought I would talk about that today for those of you new to my blog. This will help you non-military types understand the lingo that you may encounter out there in Cyberland when reading other MilBlogs.

As a pilot, you usually get a call sign for doing something stupid or its part of your name somehow. I think I could write a book based solely on this topic. As a former KC 130 pilot with the last name of Bell, and the type guy whose love of Mexican food causes massive odiferous odors to exude from my orifice, well, there you go...TacoBell. There is a flight surgeon running around out there named “Warf” because of his bad hair transplant, his head looks like the security officer from Star Trek TNG. Poor guy never figured out why he was always losing at poker when it was his night to host the game… in his office and his examination mirror was right behind him.

We had a Sgt. named Reilly, but we called him ripsaw because he could tear through anything and get the job done. Of course there was Major Ward, “Wardo”, and his constant copilot, “Muscles” (liked to work out and he was big too). Then it’s not to hard to imagine why some are called what they are, there is “Toecheese” (smelly boots-socks-feet, “Cocheese” (part Indian), and “Chowhound” (would eat your hand if it’s too close to his tray). With a last name like Flanagan, of course his call-sign is “Father” but we can’t forget the best one like “Wedge” (because he was the simplest tool known to man). Others I recall were “Rainman”, “Sticks”, “C.B.” (chatter box, she talks a lot), “HeHaw” , “Chuckles”, “Chunky” (puked in his helmet bag in flight school and it’s stuck since). I always liked my buddy Malcolm’s callsign “Roth La Doad”, (red on the head like a dick on a dog) or my old roommate at another base, “YFB” –Young Fighting Blanch. Then my other buddy there “Tattoo” a Huey pilot, remember fantasy Island (ZZZeee Plane Boss). We call our young lance Cpl “Leg Hound” because he’s like my Colonel’s old dog, which would take off chasing the UPS van and not come home for hours. This kid will get the keys to our vehicle to make a short errand, then three hours later he’ll be spotted on the other side of the base with the windows down, head bouncing up and down, cover tilted to the side and country music blaring. We were just short of having the QRF (quick reaction force) plant him down face first on the deck for grand theft auto. We ended up putting a BOLO (Be on the look out) out on all the radios for our LegHound.

Then you are running around trying to figure out the chat stuff on the computer such as “Mams” military aged male suspect and BB’s are Burka Babes. BBGW’s refers to the gals washing their clothes along the river banks but that is in hopes that they would take it off and go swimming (never happens) then they would be Burka Babes gone wild. “Tits” (kids who are doing the dirty work digging IED holes hence Terrorist in Training), “NP” no problem, “TY” thank you, “C/S” call sign, “ISO” in support of, and of course ETD/ETA not to be confused with IED or IDF (Improvised Explosive device/In Direct Fire). SAF should sound like special armed forces but means Small arms fire while the “TIC” is troops in contact and CBRU is cancelled by requesting Unit.

The “head” is a bathroom, “deck” is floor, “hatch” is a door, “butts” are cigarettes, “Smoking deck” is a place to smoke said cigarettes. The chow hall is just that, the hodgies (really Hadji’s but Hodge is a buddies name) are either the name of the guys working in the chow hall who are really “TCN’s” (third world country nationals) and the “LCN’s” (Local country Nationals, Iraqi’s in this case) or the guys lobbing rockets at you. I prefer Chucklehead for the bad guys, although, Ass clowns has been tossed around a lot. The Hodgies or TCN’s who have the market on the haircuts here are really from Tibet and nice guys. They give you a hair cut and short massage which we call the Hodgie Man Massage, not to be construed with “HML” Hodgie Man Love stuff that goes on, another subject. (read a book called the Arab mind)

Skids are Hueys, and slicks are Cobra’s and the CH-46 is called a Phrog (Frog) and they are all located on the Lilly pad, their tie-down area. You’ll hear guys talk about the “Big Voice” which is the alarm that goes off when we get rocket attacks. All time is in the 24 hours fashion 0100 is 1am thru 12pm then add 12 to the twelve hours so 1pm for you is 1300 for us. We run on Zulu time which is English time but we’re 3 hours ahead here so “C” time is Zulu plus three, most confusing if someone tells you the VIPs are showing up at 1300 and the entire staff is out waiting for Senator X to arrive only that was really 1600 local… you can see the problems that arise from that. Well I hope you gained a better understanding of our language here, not as hard as say German, but it does takes a bit of getting used to.

You guys have a “kick butt” day and I’ll talk to you soon.
Semper Fi,
Taco

**thedrifter** · 02-01-06, 10:02 AM

ACE IN THE HOLE
Feb. 1, 2006

Have you ever had to do something that was complex, crazy but required. Something that if it went astray the domino affect would be catastrophic? When you experience these type of events and you are hit with a size 12 shoe from Murphy (Murphy's law) you had better have a plan B set up. Well My plan B was shot to hell and we were loosing altitude and airspeed quick as we were headed towards a very bad area. To say **** was hitting the fan is an understatement. Everyone going 50,000 directions and dealing with one of those events where if you forget the smallest detail you would be swallowing a big spoon of trouble. This is the perfect time for your one "Ace in the hole" to shine. You know the guy that gives you what you need just as you go to ask for it. The guy that comes up with a nice cold glass of ice water in hell. That's this guy. I know one of "those" guys. He's worth his weight in gold and he is hard to replace. Were not talking reliable. Were talking how in the hell did you pull that off reliable.

This guy could have been Wylie Coyote (Canis latrans,) pulling rocket launchers out of the ACME box as he always comes up with what he needs just in the right time. Although he has a lot better luck than Wylie with his results. This guy doesn't work for me here but that's all the better. Here in Iraq, it's the land of "hook ups" and this guy is the man for hook ups. He tells me you can get anything in Iraq, you just have to know where to find it. Nothing criminal of course, as we don't keep what we are borrowing. Its just that back in the states if you need something you go to the store if you don't already have it and get one. Here, if you didn't bring it in your pack, you got to go a searching and bargaining and that is time demanding and time is our worse enemy sometimes. Its almost a game and a challenge for him because we hit him with some crazy stuff sometimes and during those "tuff requests" we will get the response of, "I'll get you one, it might take be a couple hours but I'll get you one"

We are currently looking into cloning this guy and I must say we have a good start. The coffee can has a solid buck twenty five in the coffee mess. "So your saying there's a chance"……... We were almost successful last time, we went to clone him but we didn't tell him we were doing it and his pockets were full metallic stuff and everything got cloned but him………..minor set back…don't stare at the lump on the side of his neck if you see him…..the machine kicks out some serious radioactive material.

The best is when you need "X" and you need it in an hour. You make your usual calls and then after you can't find one you "make the call". Its like out of a movies, "Mr President, its time to make the call". By combining ingenuity thinking, time management and savvyness this guy can be a deadly weapon in this area.

I guess this guy gets his creativity from being part Marine, Canis latrans, magician, MacGyver, part server. He just won't be beat and takes on the challenge to help. Wanting to help and giving a crap to get off his butt to do it is what sets this "go to" guy aside from others. He also doesn't let distraction get in his way "keep the drama for your mama!!!

This guys resume could read like the intro from the A team.

In 1972, a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they didn't commit. These men promptly escaped the maximum security stockade to the Los Angeles Underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire the A-team.

Are their guys out there like this that you know?

Semper Fi
Capt B

COMBAT UPDATE

Press release-Approximately 1,000 Iraqi soldiers from 3rd Brigade, 1st Iraqi Army Division assigned to the 2nd Brigade Combat Team (28th Infantry Division) completed Operation Al Dharba Al Nihaa'ya (Final Strike) in the Jazerra area northwest of Habbaniyah, 75 km west of Baghdad yesterday. The eastern Jazerra is a known insurgent staging area for attacks against Iraqi citizens, Iraqi Security Forces and Coalition Forces. Operation Final Strike is a counter insurgency operation aimed at neutralizing the insurgency activity and providing a secure area for the citizens of the Jazerra.

The Iraqi soldiers discovered an improvised explosive device and a small weapons cache during the course of the daylong operation.Third Brigade controls their own battle space within the 2nd BCT's area of operation. Since the end of August, 3rd Brigade has been conducting independent counter insurgency operations in this area. The morale of the Iraqi Soldiers of this brigade is very high; the work that they are doing shows their ability to properly execute missions. The Iraqi Army is earning the trust of the Iraqi citizens by protecting them from the insurgents and their terrorist operations," said 3rd Brigade Commander, General Abdul Amir. Third Brigade is composed of three Iraqi Army battalions, a commando company and the brigade headquarters unit.

posted by Capt B at 6:39 AM

**thedrifter** · 02-01-06, 06:48 PM

Monday, January 30, 2006
Fun and Games

Dear Gang,

Sometimes you try to find a laugh out of everyday ordinary events. There are folks out here who don’t have to try hard--it just happens. Yesterday , for example, we had some Army Blackhawks out front that needed fuel for their helicopters. They called me and requested what we call “Cold Fuel” (that’s where a truck brings out the gas while their engines are shut down). Not a problem, I find out how much and call the “Truck Stop” to bring the required fuel out. Now here is the fun part.

The truck arrives with two Marines. One pulls the hose out of the truck while his partner is up at the control panel. When the hose is fully extended next to the fuel port for the Army Crew chiefs to fuel the plane, the Marine on the control panel charges the hose with fuel. It’s not something you would notice or be able to see since it’s a big round hose, but once it’s charged and full of fuel, it weighs about 500 pounds. You normally would hook it up to the fuel port first then charge it. Are you catching my drift yet? These two big Army Crew chiefs go over to pick up this hose that only one Marine has just pulled out and they can hardly move it now. They call for the third guy to come over and help them. Sweat starts to glisten across their brows as they man-handle this hose up and maneuver it to the fuel portal on the side of the aircraft. These boys are tuckered out by the time it’s all said and done.

They disconnect the hose and the reel on the truck rewinds it back into the holder. Moving down a hundred feet they come to the next chopper. The second Marine pulls the hose back out again and the Army guys are looking at each other like, “Oh man, not again, what a pain!!!” Actually I think the words that came out were more like “The Son of a ***** weighs a ton!!!” The young Marine is standing there watching them shaking their heads as they look at the hose. He moves them aside and says “let a Man do this” and acts like it’s a lot to move (but in reality, the hose isn’t charged or heavy) and connects the hose to the plane. “Ok, that’s how it’s done here,” he says. Then, he moves off and his partner charges the hose and fills the plane. The Crew chief, not to be out-done, takes it off and just about loses it because now the hose is charged and weighs 500 pounds again. Down it goes on to his steel-toed boots which extracts a fine explosion of choice #$%^&%$#* words. Once again, our Marine hero helps guide the retreating hose back into the truck. I don’t think the Army guys ever realized they were being had!!

We have a young Marine in the office who is smart, but falls for some of the games we play. The other day I was going to scavenge some pieces off an old wrecked Russian jet fighter out in the scrap yard. “Hey Leghound,” I call over to him as he is sitting at his post with a walkman on full blast. He turns around, eyes begging to get out of the office because I banned video games on the office television, and says, “Yes Sir?” I say, “the Gunny and I are going to pull some parts off of the old Russian Jet. Do you think you can go down to the Air Traffic Control guys and see if they have a left-handed metric crescent wrench?” He repeats the instructions and the fun begins.

An email had been sent out earlier to the different shops requesting young Leghound to be spun in circles on this errand. He ends up at two other shops, frustrated because no one seems to have a “left-handed metric crescent wrench, you know, the only kind you can use to work on those crappy Russian birds.” Disappointed, he returns empty-handed. “That’s Ok,” I tell him, “no big deal.” We waited a week and then tasked him with finding “100 yards of flightline.” He figured that one out pretty quick when they took him out to all the planes on the “Flightline” and he realized it’s not rope.

The classic today was when VMU (Unmanned Aerial Vechicle squadron) called over asking for a fifty-five gallon drum of “prop wash” to take care of their planes. Only this was a buddy of mine on the phone. We made it sound genuine so the bait was taken. “Hey Leghound, could you call over to the Squadron and see if they have some “prop wash” that they get from the rotors that we could use?” This took about 15 minutes until someone started laughing at him on the phone and busted our little fun. It’s definitely the end of the deployment when we play these games…

Now when you leave this place, sometimes you leave a little present behind for the next set of guys. One group put two cups of milk up in the rafters of the tent by the lights overhead. You couldn't see the suckers up there, but after about 2 days of 112 out, the milk started to pump out the most insidious putrid smell as it wafted down to the occupants below. They thought there were dead rats or dogs under the floor boards until one sharp set of eyes spotted the cups up around the top of the tents. I know the homeward bound bubba's were laughing all the way back to the states about that one and bets on how long it would take the others to find the source of the smell.

Then there are other surprises that you might find in your rack (bed) at night when you return. There is a Nurse here named Naomi, a petite very active nurse who is full of hot air and likes to pay visits to your room at night. Sometimes you are there and photo's are taken while you sleep, and sometimes while you are on leave, these photo's of Nurse Naomi keeping your bed warm will be mailed to your house. Even though she is full of hot air, strangely enough, she doesn't say much. I have attached a picture of her above hanging out in the rafters waiting for the next victim to pounce on. I'm happy to say that the nurse is still a virgin as much as she tries and that is only because she stays away from the Grunts on base!!
Ah, life in Iraq. This makes it go by so much faster…take care and I’ll talk to you later. OOOOHhhhh RRRRRRhhhhaaaaaaa

Semper Fi,
Taco

**thedrifter** · 02-03-06, 08:53 AM

Friday, February 03, 2006

ANY GIVEN SUNDAY

For all the free people that still protest, you’re welcome, We protect you and you are protected by the best. Your voice is strong and loud, but who will fight for you? No one standing in your crowd.

We are your fathers, brothers, and sons, wearing the boots and carrying the guns. We are the ones that leave all we own, to make sure your future is carved in stone.

We are the ones who fight and die. We might not be able to save the world , well at least we try. We walked the paths to where we are at and we want no choice other than that.

So when you rally your group to complain, take a look in the back of your brain. In order for that flag you love to fly, wars must be fought and young men must die.

We came here to fight for the ones we hold dear, if that’s not respected we would rather stay here. So please stop yelling and put down your signs, and pray for those behind enemy lines.

When the conflict is over and all is well, be thankful that we chose to go through hell.

It’s an early Sunday morning. The anticipation builds along with excitement. Nerves twinge and fears and worries race through your head this morning. It’s the big event, the Super Bowl. I’m not talking the football game I’m talking about your next convoy.

But wait everyday is the Super Bowl here. That’s the mind set. You get your “gear” on, have a pre game (order & rehearsal) and you’re always practicing. Sure there are some big time pressures in a Super Bowl football game and I’m sure they seem grand with high stakes. A lot at stake, trophy, money, fame, victory but it’s still a game and not your life at stake. If it comes down to the last few seconds of the game and you begin to see teammates holding hands like they did in their college days on a knee as the kicker lines up to kick the winning field goal and the kicker misses, you aren’t going to have to begin first aid treatment for a sucking chest wound…….well usually you wont have to but the fans may wish otherwise. If they don’t get to the first down hash mark on third down during the fourth quarter, you’re not going to have to go to physical therapy for six months to learn how to use your prosthetic. But if you catch a glimpse of a Marine taking a knee, do us a favor and keep your pie hole shut and respect em while they do it.

Sure the coaches and players on Sunday will have plans and plays for their strategy. But will they be reading the surrounding citizens in the stands to see if they are pulling their kids off the streets because of an immanent attack? Will they see a piece of press trash blow towards them on the side lines and flinch because of a past IED experience? Will the game be interrupted by incoming mortars??……..not while were at work.

It may not be fair to compare the Super Bowl with combat action in Iraq and Afghanistan but if you want to talk about the “Big Show”, all the marbles, what you’ve been training for your entire life then, yes you can compare the two.
You can compare the stresses, fear, anxieties, joy and sadness.

However, we are 10,000 miles from anyone who really likes us and do it everyday not just on one particular Sunday. No autographs, few positive interviews, no contracts for endorsements or rolling around in expensive cars or nice houses. But I do have a sweet cot they can borrow…….when I don’t need it and I’ll take my scratched armed to the teeth hummer over their new Mercedes here any day.

The game comes on around 0300 for us, not that it will be any different from any other day heck, Christmas wasn’t different why would the Super Bowl create a special day? We won’t see the two million dollar commercials as the government station that shows the game will only produce safety commercials and weather reports for the region instead. The standard day’s events will take place and we will have our own game to fight.

As you watch the game this Sunday, having a cold one with your cigar, chips and dip and family and friends, take a couple seconds and remember we are out here for you and proud to do it. Some on their third tour, some here for a year, some just getting here. As you watch the game, know that that somewhere a young Marine is walking the streets of a foreign land, driving the armored hummer on their billionth convoy or standing a post to keep the wolf at bay while the game is on. When they play and sing the National Anthem, listen to the words carefully because we are making those words actions here taking care of business during our Super Bowl. The super stars on the field will play their game but regardless don’t believe the rumors, your Marines are human.

This Super Bowl Sunday the players will don their battle gear, conduct their press days, living with excitement and fame. Enjoy their moment to shine and they will do everything in their power conquer and seize the moment for when they will make a difference. Your Marines, well we will be doing the same thing here.

Semper Fidelis
“Get Some”
Capt B

COMBAT UPDATE
This raid was conducted by Iraqi soldiers not any of the tribal groups that have been stated in the press. There were American soldiers in support but this was an Iraqi Army raid.
PRESS RELEASE- Soldiers with 1st Brigade, 7th Iraqi Army Division conducted a targeted raid in Ar Ramadi against a foreign insurgent cell suspected of operating in the provincial capital. The intelligence attained by the Iraqi soldiers led to the capture of 15 suspected insurgents, 11 of which are identified as Syrian nationals and the remaining four as Iraqis. The raid took place at a factory in the Tameem district of Ramadi at about 1 p.m. today. The foreign insurgents surrendered to the Iraqi soldiers and were taken for further questioning; 36 AK-47 assault rifles were also taken in the raid. No casualties were sustained during the raid.

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