The Truth
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Posted:Sep 20, 2007 1:30 pm
Last Updated:Sep 29, 2007 11:52 pm 3234 Views
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There are many people out there that don’t want to hear the truth. When it comes to war the truth is often shrouded to not offend those that have weak hearts like it is also shrouded with the call for Glory and Patriotic Zeal. The truth is war is evil and one of mans greatest disservices to himself; it’s that plain and simple.
Remember it is real people here who are seeing this, doing this and experiencing it on a daily basis. This is what I’m trying to get across to you; what it’s like for them. If I really had my way I would be showing you a far more sinister view of what’s happening here because just writing about it is not enough.
You have to see it and experience it. There are many websites which are considered vulgar because of their reality videos and pictures of war. They are unacceptable in most societies. Many of those pictures and videos are not shown because they are just to plain horrible for normal humans to accept. Doesn’t this in itself say something about war that it’s unacceptable?
There are arguments trying to justify it, such as: war is an inherent part of human society, peace is nothing but preparation for the next war and that war is caused by expanding populations fighting for territory rights, but,
I wish to believe as many anthropologists that war is a learned thing; that is taught and nurtured by a society.
If war is a learned thing then societies can be reformed and war abolished. If so, then truth will become the teacher’s tool in this process of reformation.
Because it is so horrible people just don’t want to know the whole truth; they can’t accept the fact that these things really happen. So, what happens is that the normal everyday person doesn’t know what war truly is. That's why it's so important to use the tool of truth.
War is something we read about, it’s something we can experience from afar by watching TV or a movie. We don’t really have to be there to experience it someone else can do it for us. We think we know what it is but we really don’t know, can’t know, until we find ourselves in the middle of one.
One poet who wrote of the horrors of war was Wilfred Owen. He is considered the greatest war poet of all times. His poems depicted life in the trenches of WW1. Wilfred died a young man at the age of 25 leading his men across Sombre Canal at Ors. This is one of his poems I often recommend it when trying to explain how a soldier feels about war and what he sees.
Dulce et Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!–An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime...
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,–
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
Find out the truth for yourself as best you can before you go spouting off about having a war or continuing one. We have to consider the consequences of what we do when sending our young men and women and asking them to do this thing we call war. As far as, ourselves, in doing so we should all know the truth.
So, talk to those who have been there and let them tell you their story, go out and find a few of those websites I’m talking about, watch a few DVDs like “Band of Brothers” and “Saving Private Ryan” and read some poetry like that of Wilfred Owen or visit a military cemetery, that will probably be as close to the truth that most of you will ever get. In our technological society we have these things now to bring us almost to the face of it without being there. It will sicken you to see what it's really like.
Hopefully, you will find in that little bit of the truth enough to change your mind so that you will not be so hasty in saying “Yes, lets go to war”.
Remember, no soldier who knows war wants one. They will do their duty to their country and their fellow soldiers, because, that’s what they do.
They do this for you because they are soldiers.
Just remember it is you that ask them to do so.
Mirin123
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How to Prepare for a Deployment to Iraq.
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Posted:Sep 18, 2007 10:44 am
Last Updated:Sep 29, 2007 1:06 pm 3712 Views
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I didn't write this the soldiers did..wish I had 
How to Prepare for a Deployment to Iraq.
1. Sleep on a cot in the garage.
2. Replace the garage door with a curtain.
3. Six hours after you go to sleep, have your wife or girlfriend whip open the curtain, shine a flashlight in your eyes and mumble, "Sorry, wrong cot."
4. Renovate your bathroom. Hang a green plastic sheet down from the middle of your bathtub and move the showerhead down to chest level. Keep four inches of soapy cold water on the floor. Stop cleaning the toilet and pee everywhere but in the toilet itself. Leave two to three sheets of toilet paper. Or for best effect, remove it altogether. For a more realistic deployed bathroom experience, stop using your bathroom and use a neighbor's. Choose a neighbor who lives at least a quarter mile away.
5. When you take showers, wear flip-flops and keep the lights off.
6. Every time there is a thunderstorm, go sit in a wobbly rocking chair and dump dirt on your head.
7. Put lube oil in your humidifier instead of water and set it on "HIGH" for that tactical generator smell.
8. Don't watch TV except for movies in the middle of the night. Have your family vote on which movie to watch and then show a different one.
9. Leave a lawnmower running in your living room 24 hours a day for proper noise level.
10. Have the paperboy give you a haircut.
11. Once a week, blow compressed air up through your chimney making sure the wind carries the soot across and on to your neighbor's house. Laugh at him when he curses you.
12. Buy a trash compactor and only use it once a week. Store up garbage in the other side of your bathtub.
13. Wake up every night at midnight and have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on a saltine cracker.
14. Make up your family menu a week ahead of time without looking min your food cabinets or refrigerator. Then serve some kind of meat in an unidentifiable sauce poured over noodles. Do this for every meal.
15. Set your alarm clock to go off at random times during the night. When it goes off, jump out of bed and get to the shower as fast as you can. Simulate there is no hot water by running out into your yard and breaking out the garden
hose.
16. Once a month, take every major appliance completely apart and put it back together again.
17. Use 18 scoops of coffee per pot and allow it to sit for five or six hours before drinking.
18. Invite at least 185 people you don't really like because of their strange hygiene habits to come and visit for a couple of months. Exchange clothes with them.
19. Have a fluorescent lamp installed on the bottom of your coffee table and lie under it to read books.
20. Raise the thresholds and lower the top sills of your front and back doors so that you either trip over the threshold or hit your head on the sill every time you pass through one of them.
21. Keep a roll of toilet paper on your night stand and bring it to the bathroom with you. And bring your gun and a flashlight.
22. Go to the bathroom when you just have to pass gas, "just in case." Every time.
23. Announce to your family that they have mail, have them report to you as you stand outside your open garage door after supper and then say, "Sorry, it's for the other Smith."
24. Wash only 15 items of laundry per week. Roll up the semi-wet clean clothes in a ball. Place them in a cloth sack in the corner of the garage where the cat pees. After a week, unroll them and without ironing or removing the mildew,
proudly wear them to professional meetings and family gatherings. Pretend you don't know what you look or smell like. Enthusiastically repeat the process for another week.
25. Go to the worst crime-infested place you can find, go heavily armed, wearing a flak jacket and a Kevlar helmet. Set up shop in a tent in a vacant lot. Announce to the residents that
you are there to help them.
26. Eat a single M&M every Sunday and convince yourself it's for Malaria.
27. Demand each family member be limited to 10 minutes per week for a morale phone call. Enforce this with your teenage .
28. Shoot a few bullet holes in the walls of your home for proper ambiance.
29. Sandbag the floor of your car to protect from mine blasts and fragmentation.
30. While traveling down roads in your car, stop at each overpass and culvert and inspect them for remotely detonated explosives before proceeding.
31. Fire off 50 cherry bombs simultaneously in your driveway at 3:00 a.m. When startled neighbors appear, tell them all is well, you are just registering mortars. Tell them plastic
will make an acceptable substitute for their shattered windows.
32. Drink your milk and sodas warm.
33. Spread gravel throughout your house and yard.
34. Make your clear their Super Soakers in a clearing barrel you placed outside the front door before they come in.
35. Make your family dig a survivability position with overhead cover in the backyard. Complain that the 4x4s are not 8 inches on center and make them rebuild it.
36. Continuously ask your spouse to allow you to go buy an M-Gator.
37. When your 5-year-old asks for a stick of gum, have him find the exact stick and flavor he wants on the Internet and print out the web page. Type up a Form 9 and staple the web page to the back. Submit the paperwork to your spouse for processing. After two weeks, give your the gum.
38. Announce to your family that the is a vector for disease and shoot it. Throw the in a burn pit you dug in your neighbor's back yard.
39. Wait for the coldest/ hottest day of the year and announce to your family that there will be no heat/air conditioning that day so you can perform much needed maintenance on the heater/ air conditioner. Tell them you are doing this so they won't get cold/hot.
40. Just when you think you're ready to resume a normal life, order yourself to repeat this process for another sixmonths to simulate the next deployment you've been ordered to
support.
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Typical Day Out On The Town
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Posted:Sep 18, 2007 4:46 am
Last Updated:Sep 18, 2007 4:48 am 3764 Views
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You wake up, relieve yourself, take a shower, shave, brush your teeth, comb your hair, put on your under arm deodorant, rub your self down with oil and get dressed for starters.
Your clothes are important. I wear mostly Nomex a type of fire resistant fabric. My outer clothes are made of this material. Under clothes are made of cotton and not polyester again in case of fire. Boots are lightweight and hard toed. Some wear a hat but I’ve never been one to wear one.
It’s a good idea though to carry one just in case you have to spend most of your day in the sun, a wide brimmed one is preferable. Gloves should be leather faced and again made of a fire retardant material.
Then comes the check list not necessarily a written one; most often it’s just in your head.
Worn on your person
Scissors (heavy duty, bandage 7 ½”
Pen
Tooth Picks
Personal Knife (general purpose, single hand usage, for overalls)
Utility Knife (Leatherman, multipurpose too, for vest)
Seat Belt Cutter (Benchmade, for vest)
American Flag (the kind with velcro on the back that can stick to your uniform)
Important Documents ( ID Cards, Weapons Cards, Rules of Engagement, Drivers License, Medical Certifications, Picture of Michael The Archangel and Prayer to St. Michael)
Money/Credit Cards‒ $500.00 (for whatnots)
Flash lights (three, SureFires with extra batteries, one attached to the AK-47)
Global Positioning System (GPS with extra batteries)
Laser Pointer (green light for stopping cars at night)
Strobe Light (emergency signal light with infrared cover)
Chemical Lights (blue, green, red and infrared)
Eight Magazines of 30rds ea AK-47, 7.62x34 (rifle)
Four Magazines of 12rds ea .45 cal (pistol)
Five Magazines of 7rds ea. 45 cal (pistol)
Pistol Belt
Pistol Holster
Hand Held Radio with mic, headset and three batteries
Telephones (you usually need more than one or at least more than one SIM card)
Pocket knife (vest)
First Aid Kit (bandages, dressings, tourniquet, pain meds, disinfectant)
Utility Vest (mine also holds my body armor and has a Kevlar liner)
Pouches (I have fifteen on my vest)
Helmet (Kevlar, US military type)
Maps and Operating documents
Gloves (Nomex)
Overalls
Underwear
Sox
Scarf (Smag or Buff)
Sunglasses
Goggles for when you are a gunner
Watch
Carried
AK-47 with drum magazine (seventy five rds)
M 1911 .45 cal pistol
This is the basic load, many operators carry more but I find it cumbersome and most often I’m looking for a place to set down It all works out to be around 80 pounds of kit and there is always room for more.
Today’s operator can be fitted lighter and better because of the availability of modern weapons and materials, but, this works for me and I’m generally as comfortable as any other person.
Now this not by far everything you need to move around over here and sometimes I must admit you do make sacrifices for comfort. There are other things that you generally carry for extended trips or that you just don’t want to carry on your person such as the following.
Your Grab Bag
Extra Ammo ‒ Six 30rd magazines
Smoke Canisters ‒ (White, Green, Red)
Warning Flare
Sleeping Bag
Book
Camera (and accessories)
Reading lamp (the kind that attaches to the book)
PDA
MP3 player
Computer (and accessories)
DVDs and Games
Underwear
Socks
Pants
Work Out clothes
Toiletries
Towel
Towelletes
Chargers of all types for your radio, telephones, computers, PDA’s, MP3’s etc.
Connectors and Extension cords (almost every place you go has a different type of plug)
Medicines
In Vehicle
Water, water, and more water
Drinks, lots of power drinks
Food, at least MREs
Now this is the list for just my personal kit which I have to make sure is there at the beginning of every work day. It doesn’t include what’s needed for the mounted gun systems, vehicle maintenance, medical kit, equipment or supplies being transferred and of course the . Those are other lists that have to be checked. After a while you get a system established and the whole process becomes routine. You learn to wash your clothes immediately when you come in to your safe havens, charge batteries and replenish supplies used.
Everything has a place so that even in the dark you can find what you need. Things are placed in positions where if needed they fit into the slots required in an easy and expeditious manner, for example fitting magazines to weapons.
Being a medic I also have my own separate bags for medical supplies and instruments. Each vehicle has it’s own medical supplies and of course the litters and body bags that I’m responsible for.
We all have our own duties to perform and it’s something of a real dance to make sure it all comes together, that’s the Team Leaders job. I’ve never been one here because he’s got some awesome responsibilities and just plain doesn’t get paid enough for what he does.
Next time you see pictures of a desert operation in the news take a good hard look and you will be surprised at what you see.
Mirin123
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The Fox
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Posted:Sep 16, 2007 8:52 am
Last Updated:Nov 17, 2007 6:52 am 3590 Views
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A blizzard had fallen on us over night. Nearly a meter of snow covered all of Central, United States. The Northern States were completely at a stand still. It was a long weekend for us. Soldiers are given time for rest and relaxation from time to time and the snow just happen to fall on such a weekend.
I had planned to go and look for fallen antlers since it was late winter but the snow managed to change all of those plans. My urge to be outside just couldn't be suppressed; even by a meter of snow.
Living near "Land Between the Lakes" we had a manmade wilderness which provided a naturalist like myself constant opportunities to be with nature. Land Between the Lakes is a 33-mile long 11-mile wide stretch of land that nestles between two lakes, Kentucky and Barkley, that were built by the damming of the Cumberland and Missouri Rivers. The lakes provide a natural habitat for a variety of wildlife. Four waterfowl refuges were developed along the two lakes. The lakes provide a stopping point for the waterfowl in their biannual migration to and from their nesting areas in the far North.
The land itself is managed by a government agency named the "Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA)". During the early 1900's the building of the dams was in much controversy because people were forced off their homelands. But the sacrifice by those few created one of the most beautiful and necessary wildlife management areas in the US.
I couldn't stay inside. I had an inner urging for the natural, spiritual side of life. The drive to the lakes was serene. Almost no one was on the highway. The roads were clear and I had no trouble getting to the lakes. They were frozen and covered with snow.
No one had driven into the wildlife area. I parked my car outside the gates because the roads were just plain impassable. It was so quiet. Pristine, natural, nothing manmade, only the sounds of the winter birds or migrating stragglers could be heard. Only a few animals had been moving around. You could see their movements written in the snow.
Moving through the snow was difficult but I began my trek with renewed zeal, the spiritual scene that had been created the night before encouraged me. It had been years since I had seen or felt like I did that day, only as a had I felt the naturalness that then enveloped me.
I felt like the earth there had become a place of power. It renewed my spirit like nothing manmade could ever do. There were thoughts going through my mind like - "No one knew I was there." "What if something happened to me?" but they soon were dispelled by the beauty of where I was. For an hour I walked. Looking, absorbing the place. Snow hung heavily on the branches of the trees. Occasionally, I would see a bird searching for food or for cover from the cold.
At one point a feeling of being watched came over me. No one was anywhere near me. It was a feeling like I had never felt before. I began to glance to the side and back of me. Being a hunter I knew something was there.
After about a half an hour more of walking I decided to stop and just stand still for a while. I propped myself against a tree and crouched down low. Much like you would do when you are still-hunting. It was so quiet.
Fifteen minutes must have gone by. I caught a glimpse of movement along the trail I had left in the snow. I studied the area where the movement had been for another ten minutes or so.
Just when I was about to get up and start back I saw one of the most wonderful things I had ever seen in my whole life. It was quick and vivid, a face so natural, so beautiful, so inquisitive and such a surprise for me.
It was the face of a Red Fox. He peaked around a tree and our eyes met just a fraction of a second. He was on my trail following me. I'm sure thought I was a hunter and was hoping for leavings from a kill that he expected me to make. Why else would a human be in the wilderness, in deep snow that time of the year?
The experience of being trailed by an animal was one I had never experienced before. I felt joy and happiness as I went over this event in my mind. It was so natural.
He peaked once more and then I never saw him again. He realized that he had been caught in the act of his surveillance. I walked over to an area where I knew the Forest Rangers would put food out for the deer. They had in fact put out hay and other grasses for them. There were several deer feeding. I watched them for a few minutes and then started back to the car.
Along the way I picked up the trail of the fox and saw that he had in fact followed me.
You read about things like this but not until they happen to you can you really experience the pure pleasure of it. The day had been well spent an experience that will forever be ingrained on my spirit.
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“SOLITUDE”
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Posted:Sep 16, 2007 8:28 am
Last Updated:Sep 16, 2007 8:29 am 3048 Views
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SHIMMERING WATER FLOWING CLEAN AND CLEAR
SWEET SMELL OF HONEYSUCKLE DRIFTING IN THE AIR
FEELING FRESH AND ALIVE, SURROUNDED BY GOD’S RECITAL
MERGING MY SOUL SEEKING A RENEWAL
NO WORRY’S, NO TRIAL’S OR TRIBULATIONS
ONLY NATURE SHARING MY METAMORPHOSIS
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See what's going to happen
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Posted:Sep 16, 2007 8:15 am
Last Updated:Sep 16, 2007 8:17 am 3122 Views
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Good article by Martin Fletcher in Baghdad. This is a good example of what's going to happen if we leave now.
Iraqi interpreters working for the British Army have been advised to leave
Basra or be killed.
The warning was issued by a leading member of the city's security forces after militiamen attacked and destroyed the home of one interpreter and narrowly failed to kidnap another. There were unconfirmed reports yesterday
that a third had been killed.
All the interpreters have to leave Basra because these militia will never let them rest. They will kill everybody they know [who worked for the
British], Colonel Saleem Agaa Alzabon, who leads Basra's special forces, said. The interpreters have to leave. They have no choice.
Colonel Saleem and the two targeted interpreters told The Times that the
militiamen almost certainly members of the Shia al-Mahdi Army had stepped up their pursuit of so-called collaborators since the British withdrew from Basra city 11 days ago. The latest attacks are further evidence of the extreme danger that the 91 interpreters for the British military face now, let alone when the troops leave Iraq for good. They will intensify the pressure on Britain to reverse its refusal to grant them
asylum. Gordon Brown ordered a review of that policy after The Times highlighted the interpreters plight last month.
The target of the first attack was Ahmed, 25, a student who has been working
for the British Army for three years, first in a base in the Shatt al-Arab
hotel and now at the al-Shaibah base outside Basra, where the Irish Guards
are training Iraqi troops.
Ahmed (not his real name) said that last Friday his 22-year-old cousin borrowed his car to fetch his sister, who lives near the al-Shaibah base.
The cousin used the route Ahmed normally takes to work. He was stopped by four masked men at a makeshift checkpoint and whisked away.
When the kidnappers realised that they had the wrong man they telephoned the
cousin's family to say that he would be killed if Ahmed did not give himself
up. The family lied, saying that Ahmed had left Iraq. The kidnappers then
demanded a $15,000 (7,500 GBP) ransom.
Ahmed handed over all the money that he had saved over three years. The family asked a tribal leader to give it to the kidnappers and bring back the cousin so that they would not be cheated. The cousin returned home with a
message for Ahmed: If we find you anywhere in Basra we will kill you, but if you come to us and give us information we will let you live.
Ahmed has now sent his wife and one-year-old to a relative's house far from Basra and intends to stay on the al-Shaibah base. He said that if the Government did not grant him asylum in Britain he would have to seek
refuge in another country.
I'm very frightened, he said. The militias know all the interpreters in Basra. They waited for the British to leave so they could attack us . . . If the British don't give me asylum I will have big problems because if I stay
in Iraq I will be killed.
A British officer, who declined to be named, confirmed Ahmed's identity, and
saw no reason to doubt his story. It would not be the first time something
like this has happened, he said.
The second attack came late on Sunday night. Mohammed Motlag, who has worked as an interpreter since 2003, told The Times that he was working at the
British base at Basra airport when his wife telephoned to say their house
was being attacked by about 40 militiamen. They were shouting: �We have come to kill your husband. He's a spy for the British forces.
Mr Motlag, 46, said that his two , aged 6 and 3, were also in the house. He could hear the militiamen trying to break down the door. Weeping at his helplessness, he told his wife to get his gun and start firing.
He then called Colonel Saleem, an old friend, who rushed a police detachment to rescue the family. The militiamen later blew up the house with grenades. Mr Motlag said that his family were now in hiding. Colonel Saleem
corroborated Mohammed's story when contacted by The Times. �That's right, he said, and then repeated it himself.
The Ministry of Defence said it was aware of the interpreters claims, took the safety of its Iraqi employees very seriously, and was reviewing the assistance it provides to them. It continued: The total number of Iraqis
who have worked for us since 2003 with a claim to assistance could be at least 15,000. We therefore need to consider the options carefully.
Senior politicians, diplomats and army officers have urged the Government togrant the interpreters asylum. The Times has learnt that the Government privately accepts that it has a moral obligation to help them, but ministers
are still debating how many of the thousands of other Iraqis and their dependents � who have assisted the British should be allowed in.
An interpreter working for the British describes an attack on his family
Tonight at 2300 hrs, my telephone was rung, it is my wife; she shouted and cried: Mohammed the militia are at the door trying to break it' she said.
I am in the COB [British airport base] and she is inside the house. I was hearing the sounds of my saying: Daddy: save us.My wife: they
broken the 1st door and trying to broke the second.
I phoned the ops room of the regiment in which I work, although I know they have no permission to come inside the Basra city because of the decision of pullout from Basra city. * I phoned the police returning back to my wife, I was crying because I hear the crying of my having no ability to save them (Trying to be steadfast), and all of a sudden the idea of using my rifle which is in my home crossed my mind. Shouting use the rifle I said. She replied I don't know how to use it.
I don't know how I taught her with my telephone. She shot 6 rounds inside the room. They are still hammering the door. At that time, a captain from the regiment arrived to my office, I made the loudspeaker of my telephone on
in order to hear him the sound of shooting and the crying of my and my wife.
Mohammed they attacked us from the outside of the building, they are saying we shall kill you and your because your husband hides himself working as a servant with his infidel masters British she said.
The officer order me to go to the ops room of RHA [Royal Artillery], but on my way I returned back to the police I entreat them at times and abusing them at other times because they are late to save my family.
By Chance, I found another name who appear in front of my eyes, Colonel Saleem, I worked with him in Az Zubayr when he was the commander of police in this city for more than a year ago but he was moved to be the commander of QRF [Quick Reaction Force] of Basra city. I phoned him nervously asking him to save my family. Again with my wife, she said they will try to come
inside through the windows, so she was continuous to shoot them and she asked me to teach her how to replace the magazine, I told her how she do that.
Mohammed I hear the sounds of the policemen saying we are police she phoned me. OK let me ask Colonel Saleem about the names of his people
perhaps it is a swindler I told her.
But it was OK they are his people after checking with him. Then the police of Al Ashaar area arrived and they have done some investigations. By and large police arrived after 45 minutes from the beginning of the incident.
The militia were around 40 people, 25 around and inside the building but the others surrounded the area, they were dressed on black and military
uniforms, some of them were trying to break the doors but the others disturbed the furniture of the rooms taking some English documents and my
laptop.
I asked Colonel Saleem to take my wife and the to his home to save them. At the time of writing those notes, militia returned back after the police left, they exploded the flat by grenades. When everything was resolved I found myself writing to you. Please, I hope to issue my story to the British public opinion to say this is what he does earn who served the
British troops for more than 4 years. Where can I put my to protect them.
I am so sorry about my writing because I am very nervous.
* British troops can, in fact, re-enter the city until it is granted provisional Iraqi control next month
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Fear
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Posted:Sep 13, 2007 10:34 am
Last Updated:Nov 17, 2007 6:53 am 3207 Views
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Fear…. everyone has been afraid at one time in their life. It is often spoken about and dramatized in movies, books, poems and tales but putting it into perspective is often a difficult thing to do unless you have truly felt fear.
Fear has pronounced biological effect on us, “The Fight or Flight” syndrome. Our heart rate usually increases; muscles used for physical movement are tightened and primed with oxygen in preparation for a physical fight or flight response, our breathing increases to support the requirement for oxygen, our hair stands on end, we sweat and blood pools around our major organs.
This response is quite commonly responsible for the tales of extraordinary strength we hear so much of.
Our face is one of our biggest give a way’s to being in a state of fear. I certainly saw it that night last summer. A person can actually die from fear. I have seen many episodes of physiological shock (passing out) as a response to fear.
Fear in combat becomes a myriad of different things. It can be the driving force that makes you do things that you wouldn’t normally do; it can be a tool of survival or your greatest burden. In war, fear dwells in your mind; you feel it before every operation. It may keep you from bodily harm or it can turn you into a squabbling baby. Used as a tool though fear helps us to work out solutions to what we may have to do..
One of the greatest faces of fear is fear of the unknown. This is one of the most difficult to deal with and can dethrone reason. You ask yourself “Can I do this, am I going to perform”? “Am I going to die or will I be injured”?
This type of fear if not controlled may drive you to lie down in a fire fight; it overcomes you and can takes control of them. I’ve seen people in this state of uncontrollable behaviour just plainly give in to it when we needed them the most.
We were coming out of a small town north of Baghdad on night last summer. As we left the check point on the outer edge of town we came under attack on our right flank. There were 15 trucks and 4 security vehicle spaced evenly along the length of the convoy.
Small arms, machine gun and RPGs followed the initiation of the attack by an IED. The convoy stalled initially and as the gun trucks returned fire I was watching the tracers and realized we would have the insurgents in a cross fire once our gunner initiated his response.
We had a good chance to repel the attack. Since I was vehicle commander I was focused on responding to the communications and was momentarily busy and distracted from what my gunner was doing.
When I looked up to see how our engagement was going I realized that our gunner was not returning fire I looked back and he was on the floor of the vehicle curled up in the fetal position. I yelled at him to get up and fire and with those fear ridden eyes he shook his head vigorously. No way was he getting up.
My heart sank and no longer was there the feeling of success a deep empty pit in my stomach took its place. Needless to say who do you think had to man the gun? We managed to get out with only damage to the vehicles, we were lucky. The gunner was fired on the spot and to my surprise one of our other vehicles had the same problem.
On the other hand there is a different kind of fear it’s the fear of failure. It makes good soldiers who would not let their fellow soldiers down. Many times it was the catalyst for the greatest of courageous acts. Sgt Alvin York was one of our greatest hero’s in WW1.
He said of the engagement where he won his medals that they were under fire by rifle and machine gun fire; his colleagues were dying and the only way he could see that it was stopped was to go up on the hill and kill the men that were doing it. He over came his fear of the situation and saved their lives.
I want to finish this blog talking about Terror which is basically fear on steroids and is what we are dealing with here. We are daily, trying to gain control of those who would impose terror in our minds through their horrible acts of violence.
There has been so much terror here that people all over the world are overwhelmed by it. I hear prejudice comments and see irrational behavior because of these terrorists’ actions all the time. All of us have to realize that we have this fear and we have to gain control of it. It’s this fear that started this war and that now is sustaining it.
There will be those who will have to face the ultimate confrontation but I think if we channel our fears into actions of diplomacy and understanding it will make a difference in time.
Finally, my own fears are driving me away from this place. You go through a sort of acceptance phase and deal with it most of the time but then eventually it becomes apparent that you can’t continue to tease with your fate. It’s sort of like playing Russian roulette the odds are not good and I’ve been over here for 4 years. I think that’s long enough.
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I didn’t
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Posted:Sep 13, 2007 10:20 am
Last Updated:Sep 13, 2007 11:10 pm 3003 Views
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I didn’t know
How much the pain would grow
I didn’t think
My soul would sink
I didn’t feel
What now is real
I didn’t give
So, the relationship would live
I didn’t hear
The… whispers in my ear
I didn’t look
At the closed book
I didn’t see
What you gave to me
I didn’t care
Now my despair
Mirin123
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An Eagles’ RUSH!!!
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Posted:Sep 12, 2007 9:52 am
Last Updated:Sep 13, 2007 1:52 pm 3156 Views
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Playing Army was always a big deal in our neighborhood. Everyone had some type of toy gun and an old helmet liner. We even used dirt clogs as grenades to add to the realism. We would divide up into different armies; build fortifications from cardboard boxes and dig fox holes for command posts. Some of our battles would last for days.
War Movies were another one of my favorite pass times. I have seen every John Wayne; Henry Fonda and Robert Mitchem movie ever made and I still like seeing them. When I was eleven I joined the Boy Scouts of American and later became a member of the Fraternal Order of The Eagles the highest rank held in the BSA. So, with all of those influences; coupled with the fact I came from a Cotton Mill town in the south it’s not a wonder that I ended up in the US Army.
I always wanted to be a soldier and the 101st Airborne Division was my chosen unit. The Airborne Soldier is a special breed of soldier. Mostly because of their daring, flamboyant, and sometimes suicidal way of life. Every time I see that maroon beret goose bumps play havoc up and down my spine. When I finally decided to join the army it was the 101st. that it had to be. Since it was during the Vietnam Era it was no problem for me to become a Trooper (short for Paratrooper).
Basic was a breeze. I was young and weighed only 135lbs at the time. The physical part was what I was mostly scared of before joining. But I hurdled right past and quickly proved my soldier skills as well as my leadership abilities. After eight weeks I was sent to Fort Benning Ga. and began my Airborne training.
The first person we met as the bus pulled up to the 45th Airborne Infantry Battalion was Staff Sergeant Becker, A Black Hat. The first words out of his mouth were very kind, gentle and fatherly. They sort of went like this, “OK, you sorry, slimy pieces of shit. Unass this bus and put your sissy little, LEG (nasty name for nonairborne soldiers” butts on that yellow line over there”. I thought “Now there’s a Nice Guy.” Every moment from then until graduation, was a personal struggle with my resolve, determination and self control.
They pushed and shoveled us all over the compound that day. Everywhere we went we were afforded the opportunity to drop from the course. More left than stayed. They started conditioning us right from the very beginning. Push-ups were their favorite form of torture. Of course their basic dialog with us very rarely extended beyond a four letter word and it seemed that you couldn’t do any thing right. I must have had over 1000 push-ups under my belt that very first day. Zero week was designed to condition us physically and mentally. Because the course had a high drop out rate (Not everyone has the spirit to endure) the first week didn’t count toward course completion, thus, it’s name Zero Week.
Every muscle in my body screamed with pain. Never in my whole life had I hurt so bad. The first few days we went from one exercise to another. I actually prayed for that week to be over.
The next week was equally as bad. It was different though. We practiced how to land and how to chute-up. We were in the dirt and sawdust pits almost every moment of that week. Of course the dialog still didn’t consist of much more that four letter words. We lost more soldiers and our class dwindled. Before the end of that week we certainly could do a parachute landing fall and learned the reason for harnessing up that chute properly. You see two straps go between the legs and back up to the parachute. It’s very important to
insure that they are tight and everything is in the proper position; especially for a man. If you know what I mean?
By the third week they had slacked off on the physical conditioning and actually began talking to us in a fairly civil tone of voice. They did introduce a new form of torture though, it was called “Beat Your Boots”. From a standing position you bend with you knees keeping your back straight and slap the side of your boots. Do one or fifty you’ll soon see how effective it is for building muscle or straightening out a bad attitude. This weeks training was designed to prepare us for the actual jumps from the plan.
The first day we put on our chutes and jumped from mock, wooden, airplanes. You have stand in the door a certain way , jump a certain way, count a certain way, check things in a certain order and land a certain way. The next day we were suspended from harnesses that hung from the ceiling of a building and were dropped to the ground. From there we jumped out of the 30ft towers in a chute and harness. We would roll along a wire for about 50 yards and then hopefully land doing a good PLF (If not, it was beat your boots time!). The last day of that week we were lifted up to 100ft above the ground and released an actual parachute brought us back to the ground.
The last week was the big week. Jumping from an airplane and getting those wings pinned on my chest was soon to come true. That first jump was almost surrealistic. The whole day is true to me now as it was then. You get this adrenaline flow before you jump that some people actually get mentally addicted to. We loaded on a C130, 120 of us.
The flight was short but seemed like a life time. There are four jump STICKS of 30 troopers on this particular type of aircraft, two outboard and two inboard. We had a Commander of the Jump who is called the Jumpmaster controlling things inside the aircraft.
I was scarred and I’m not ashamed to say that I was. It was dark and the sound of the engines were deafening. I was more scarred of not hearing the commands of the jumpmaster than I was of jumping. If you are near the end of your stick you are the last to come out of the plane. It inevitably puts you on the far end of the Drop Zone sometimes up to a mile away from the rally point. So, everyone try’s to be near the first or be the first out of the plane. The guys at the end are pushing everyone in front so they wont have to walk that mile (fast out = short walk).
You wait with your eyes glued to the Jumpmaster. He uses hand and voice commands.
There is also a red and green light that indicates the clearance for exiting the airplane. The first command came to suddenly for me. Out Board Personnel Stand-UP! In Board Personnel Stand-UP! Hook-UP! (Combat Jumps are most frequently done by Static Line. No-one has to pull they’re own parachute ripcord to open the chute. It’s done by a line that is as attached to the airplane.) Check Equipment! (If the person’s equipment looks OK in front you slap him on the a__) . Get Ready! This is when you start watching the Red and Green Exit lights. The light turned green and the Jumpmaster shouted, Stand In The Door! Then he taps each person out and yells go.
We started moving toward the door. You had to keep the static line from becoming entangled and keep from falling over because of the pushing. Then everything slowed down. It was almost like I was watching a TV show or Video. The plane was dark. The exit door looked like a theater screen. I felt like I was in a movie theater. The view outside the door was moving and panoramic. The country side was beautiful and then I was in the door in the position I was instructed to take. The wind was deafening. When I felt the tap from behind I automatically jumped as instructed.
The wind hit me so hard it took my breath away. My face became distorted and my cheeks flapped in the wind. I was disoriented and suffered from momentary vertigo. I had forgotten for those few moments everything that I was trained. Then instinctively it came back to me. Keep your arms tucked; chin down; elbows pressed against the ribs; hands on the reserve chute and count. Damn! I forgot to count. Every moment in the air you are falling. Every moment counts. The Drill was - One Thousand, Two Thousand, Three Thousand, Four Thousand ....... Check Canopy. My canopy was open before I even counted. I cursed myself for being so stupid. By that time I was back to my senses and checked my canopy and equipment. Everything was OK. I relaxed and began checking the people around me. Everyone was OK and I could see troopers already landing on the ground.
Peaceful, so peaceful, it was beautiful. I was so relaxed and began for the first time since starting the course to actually enjoy being Airborne.
I go so rapped up in the beautiful feeling that I almost forgot what came next. LANDING!
I started going over PLF’s and determined which direction I was moving. I waited until I could see the tree tops and pulled the chute controls to slow the rate of descent. Ground Rush was discussed but never had I experienced anything like it. Everything seemed so slow while we were drifting down. Until you get at tree top level. Then everything goes into high gear. The ground came at me so fast it surprised me. I bearly had time to prepare for the landing before I hit. It was smooth.......
My first thought was “What A Rush”. That week ended I was pinned and spent 21 years a proud and dedicated Trooper. I entered as 101st Airborne Eagle and Retired as an Eagle.
I spent many years working with that special breed of soldier and never regretted for a single moment choosing to be one of the best soldiers in the world, the American Airborne Paratrooper.
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Airborne Memories
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Posted:Sep 12, 2007 9:47 am
Last Updated:Sep 12, 2007 9:51 am 4200 Views
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All you x-airborne soldiers out there will be pleased to remember this one. Sung to the tune of The "Battle Hymn of the Republic" Sick, Lame, Lazy and Airborne Crazy.
Airborne Song
"Blood Upon the Risers"
He was just a cherry trooper and he surely shook with fright
as he checked all his equipment and made sure his pack was tight
He had to sit and listen to the awful engines roar,
And he ain't gonna jump no more.
CHORUS:
Gory, Gory, What a heck of a way to die
Gory, Gory, What a heck of a way to die
Gory, Gory, What a heck of a way to die
He ain’t gonna jump no more.
“Is everybody happy?” cried the Sergeant, looking up.
Our hero feebly answered “yes,” and then they stood him up.
He leaped right out into the blast, his static line unhooked.
He ain’t gonna jump no more.
CHORUS:
Gory, Gory, What a heck of a way to die
Gory, Gory, What a heck of a way to die
Gory, Gory, What a heck of a way to die
He ain’t gonna jump no more.
He counted long, he counted loud, he waited for the shock;
He felt the wind, he felt the clouds, he felt the awful drop;
He jerked his cord, the silk spilled out and wrapped around his legs.
He ain’t gonna jump no more.
CHORUS:
Gory, Gory, What a heck of way to die
Gory, Gory, What a heck of way to die
Gory, Gory, What a heck of way to die
He ain’t gonna jump no more.
The risers wrapped around his neck, connectors cracked his dome;
The lines were snarled and tied in knots, around his skinny bones;
The canopy became his shroud, he hurtled to the ground.
He ain’t gonna jump no more.
CHORUS:
Gory, Gory, What a heck of way to die
Gory, Gory, What a heck of way to die
Gory, Gory, What a heck of way to die
He ain’t gonna jump no more.
The days he’d lived and loved and laughed kept running through his mind;
H
e thought about the girl back home, the one he’d left behind;
He thought about the medics and wondered what they’ed find.
He ain’t gonna jump no more.
CHORUS:
Gory, Gory, What a heck of way to die
Gory, Gory, What a heck of way to die
Gory, Gory, What a heck of way to die
He ain’t gonna jump no more.
The ambulance was on the spot, the jeeps were running wild;
The medics jumped and screamed with glee, they rolled their sleeves and smiled;
For it had been a week or more since last a chute had failed.
He ain’t gonna jump no more.
CHORUS:
Gory, Gory, What a heck of way to die
Gory, Gory, What a heck of way to die
Gory, Gory, What a heck of way to die
He ain’t gonna jump no more.
He hit the ground, the sound was splat, his blood went spurting high;
His comrades were then heard to say, “A heck of way to die”;
He lay there rolling ‘round in the welter of his gore.
He ain’t gonna jump no more.
CHORUS:
Gory, Gory, What a heck of way to die
Gory, Gory, What a heck of way to die
Gory, Gory, What a heck of way to die
He ain’t gonna jump no more.
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