In this lovely little corner of the world, we call Iraq, there is little more to do than pass the time as peacefully and quickly as possible. Unfortunately, a particular group of insurgents, known as Iraqis, see fit to do anything in their power to prevent this, or any attempt at stabilization of their own country. It seems they are more like Pavlov’s Dogs than human beings. At the sound a HUMMV rolling down their road, they’ll flock to the street, arms open in hopes of handouts. Turn your back and they’ll steal anything not bolted down, at best, or at worst, slit your throat. It becomes increasingly hard to pity any group of people who seem so hell-bent on their own self-destruction. Thinking about it typically breeds little more than frustrated resentment; oftentimes, reading, writing, sleeping, throwing rocks at other rocks in our gravel lawn, and other such mind-expanding activities serve as apt substitutes for real, intelligent thought.Mind you, I did say oftentimes. As we have learned time and again, oftentimes does not mean always. As in Three Mile Island oftentimes ran smoothly. Planes oftentimes land safely on the ground. Oftentimes, I can send out nice, neat little emails full of humor and what some may accept as wit. This, dear readers, is not one of such times.
Slow death is a term I’ve used on multiple occasions to describe Iraq. It is not my love for hyperbole that compels me to label it such. It is the fact that everything about this place betrays a slow, creeping, pervasive death. The earth itself reeks of rot and decay. The soil, hardly arable, yields little more than the occasional tomato. The sun beats down hot and cruel, sucking the life force out of any creature dumb enough to not be nocturnal, i.e., any and all members of the US Army… Not to be confused, of course, with the USMC… (Under Standard Mental Capacity). The best one can hope for is arriving a nice, air-conditioned trailer, where at the end of the day, a care package or two occasionally makes their way onto your bunk.
Now, in the Army, coffee becomes one’s friend quite quickly. The stronger, the better. Another close companion of the modern soldier is his (or her) iPod or comparable MP3 player. Having the ability to store days' worth of music allows for a varied collection to chose from. Unless, of course, you are I… in which case, get the hell over here so I can go home. But seriously, I do have an iPod and it is loaded with a broad spectrum of musical genres. Oddly, with such diverse selections at my disposal, I find myself continuously listening to the same albums of rage and enlightenment… namely, the aging alternative icon himself… Henry Rollins. So there you have it… a veritable IV of caffeine coursing its way through my veins as Rollins Band muzak resonates though my skull. The resulting amalgamation is nothing short of thermonuclear. I remind you… oftentimes (such a useful word, is it not) I manage to snip and trim such rants and tirades, forming the tidy little emails you’re accustomed to reading. This, ladies and gentlemen, as I already said, is not one of those times. Brace yourself, lock the doors, put the kiddies to bed, and secure all items of value…
The views and opinions expressed herein do not necessarily reflect those of anyone but the slightly insane Specialist who typed them… read at your own risk. >
To the politicians: SCREW YOU for politicizing this war. Screw each and every one of your who have in any way, shape, or form used any aspect of this war to win or try to win the votes of anyone. Our sacrifice is not yours, nor is it for you. You spend millions of dollars to win campaigns. Explain to me how you are looking out for OUR best interest… even a small percentage of the cash you’ve utilized could get us necessary tools. M9 9mm pistols, for example. We’re MPs, yet we are not outfitted as MPs, solely because the state and federal governments both want to other to toe the bill for us to receive the weaponry we need. Do not come to visit us to tell us we’re doing a good job. We know we are and we do not need to act as a photo op or sound bite for you to prove it. You’re using our blood to win an election, don’t use our faces. We resent you… we resent the fact that no matter who we vote for, we’re still screwed.
To the Iraqis: Do not come to us with your arms open for handouts. Come to us with your minds open, ready to learn to be self-sufficient, productive rather than dependent. May I remind you that just over a year ago, you cheered as we rolled through the streets in the days leading up to and following the ouster of Saddam Hussein? Now, you threaten us with every move. Do not rush our convoys because you know we will not shoot without proper authority. Someday soon, we will deem your taunt a threat and defend ourselves accordingly… I won’t lose any sleep over it, either. Do not assemble at our gates, solely to cause trouble and stir up resentment among those of you here to visit prisoners. If you were too busy to notice, last week, as five or six soldiers tried to control you, about twenty of us raced to save the life of a two year old girl you brought to our gates after a water boiler exploded in her house and she received second- and third-degree burns over seventy-five percent of her body. In case you didn’t know, she died three times and we brought her back three times. Not because we owed her or you anything, but because it was the right thing to do. Not that we expect you to recognize that. Go ahead and rejoice in the street over the beheading of a US civilian. Reveal yourselves for the animals you truly are. I’ve seen the images. While I find them disturbing, I CAN look at them…. I CAN stomach the carnage you create in the name of your god and, given the chance, I am willing to unleash hell to prevent it from happening again. We’ve spent hours discussing ways to make you suffer. We do believe in revenge and would love but a few minutes to take the gloves off and show you true pain and suffering. Muqtada al-Sadr, you wear your funeral shroud to indicate you’re willing to be martyred. Continue your actions, you fool, and we shall happily send you to your god. Let it be known… none of you deserve the freedom we attempt to give you. We die so that you may one day come to know what freedom truly is, but you’ll never know. You’ve done nothing to earn the rights we die to protect. You kill one another as readily as you kill us. You have no value for life, how can you be expected to value liberty? You’re a society gone wrong…
To the US Citizens: How do you want this to end? We’re in this for the long haul, make no mistake about it. We can either be allowed to soldier, or we can continue to try to play peacekeeper with one hand tied securely behind our backs No one back home wants to get their hands dirty, to shoulder the blame, as a nation, for the suffering of another. As a result, we are, in effect, fighting the war hobbled. Iraqis know this and exploit it to the fullest extent. They know we cannot shoot without authority. Our convoys are compromised every time we roll. Our tail element vehicles can do nothing more than try to box out vehicles charging from the rear. A bullet through a windshield is a much more effective message than a turret gunner trying to play traffic cop. We’ve been lucky thus far… other convoys cannot say the same. Are we to wait until one of these cars opens fire on our civilian contractors or us? If the images and the stories coming out of Iraq are too disturbing, do not watch.
We did not ask the media to make the circus out of this that they have. We do not expect you to rejoice in the idea of the brutality of war, but it must be just that – brutal – to be effective. We have the capability of ending this quickly, effectively, decisively… let us. Do not hide behind the new-age cop-out “I support our troops, but I do not support the war.” Newsflash… we are inextricably linked. Iraq is but one front in a global war that may never end. Religious fervor and the blind, canine-like obedience of the uneducated masses yields a rich harvest in terrorism. Our way of life has changed. Adapt to it and allow the military to flex its strength and make an awesomely terrible impression on the world. Let us show terrorists that for every life they take, we’ll take ten, minimum. Let us cripple the system set out to destroy all of us. There is no room for rationalizing, arbitrating, or mediating with these groups. Their sole mission is the deaths of all of us – there is no middle ground. You’d have more success talking a shark out of eating you than you would convincing a single al-Qaeda member that they should “give peace a chance.” That’s why we have enlisted. That’s why we’ve taken this burden on – we’re willing to spill our blood and the blood of others to protect our lives, our way of life, our nation. We know not all of you have asked us to do so, nor do we wish for gratitude or privilege. We merely ask for you to allow us to do what we’ve trained for, what we need to do, what must be done. Instead of being the great white savoir, let us be the terribly awesome force we train to be. Soldiers are not meant to keep the peace – we are meant to defend freedom. Defense involves sacrifice and violence. Do not turn this into another Vietnam or Somalia…
I’m sure by now I’ve caused several raised eyebrows and concerned sighs. For that, I apologize. For the above rant, I offer no apologies. I’ll make every effort to buffer such tirades with at least a dispatch or two of humor and / or wit.
Keep the emails and mail coming… it means more than you realize. Any connection to home is a temporary diversion for the land of sand fleas, camel spiders, and dust devils.
I hope the above pictures sent properly.
I'll attach a few shots here and there to give you a taste of the Bucca Way of Living. Miss you all!
Michael
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