So I just got off the phone with my dear old mother. We were talking about this, that and the other when the subject of me coming home came up. She told me about a new restaurant that she found that she wants to take me to when I get home. I told her that would be fine, but the first place I wanted to go was always the same, and she knew exactly what I was talking about. Mothers are kind of funny that way. They pretty much know you so well that there is very little you could actually surprise them with. She knew that I wanted to go to “Parky’s” a hot dog joint on Harlem and Madison in Forest Park, IL. Greatest hot dogs on the planet. And to all my buddies at home, this is my blog so as far as this is concerned the argument is closed.
Then I told her that the bikers from the bar that I used to work at were going to come and get me from the airport or wherever the Army releases me from. To which she asked why no one had called her about this yet. You know, because she’s my mom and if anyone sees me before she does she will probably try to kill them. I told her not to worry, they are going to include her or risk their very lives. She then proceeds to tell me that she would be happy to ride on the back of one of their bikes! A proposition that I quickly forbade. She protested, why couldn’t she ride on the back of one of their bikes? I said, (with all due respect to my biker buddies) that there is no way that I would allow my mother to ride with one of them. It’s kind of funny how life changes over time. We go from mother protecting me from all those girls that I shouldn’t be hanging around with, but wanted to anyway, to me protecting her from all the guys that I don’t think she should be hanging around with. (Which basically encompasses all men!) But to cap it all off and to completely wrap my brain around the axle she finishes by saying, “What, why can’t I be a cougar like some of the other moms I know?” Then she asked me if I knew what a cougar was? Unfortunately, I do.
Really? Are you fucking kidding me? I’ll tell you why not, because I carry a firearm and I will gladly put several new holes in any guy that tries to make time with my mother. And as far as the cougar thing goes...Well let me say this.
Every guy has their MILF story. Every guy has their cougar story. Mine happened when I was seventeen. And knowing how I have told this story since then I can say in no uncertain terms that NO ONE will ever have a story like that involving my mother. Not if they value the breath in their lungs.
Now I know that my mom is a sweet old lady. Check that, pull the sweet part out. She is a ball-breaker of the first order. She is the toughest person that I have ever met. (And I work in a prison, and have been in the Army since 1998.) She is harder than a coffin nail and I love her to death just because of that. Now granted, she has softened a bit given her ever advancing age, but it doesn’t change the fact that when I or my brother need anything she comes through with a vengeance. And God help you if you were to ever fuck with one of us. She raised two boys on her own and made a couple of pretty good guys out of us. And I dare anyone to get in her way.
That being said, the cougar thing is a moot point just because it’s like this...
“Mom, I am pretty sure that you would make mincemeat out of any guy that came along anyway, so I ain’t worried. Even if one of the kids tried you would probably just leave him bleeding and broken on the floor.”
But still, just hearing her say it was disturbing. So don’t do that again! Please.
And just so you know, a few of the guys heard me yelling on the phone and now everyone of the FOB is asking me, “Hey, so I hear your mom is a cougar!” I hope you’re happy.
Now onto the next thing. It’s amazing what the presence of one person can do for your morale. The Friendly Ghost, whom most of you should know because of his “Monkey With a Typewriter Experiment” that he wrote for me a few weeks back. He went on leave and was gone for like a month. And he came back today.
Within five minutes of seeing him my morale shot through the roof, in a totally heterosexual, so very not gay way! And within that same five minutes he came up with a new motto for the ever expanding list. You’ll remember that a while back we wrote a whole bunch of mottos for the regiment, but apparently none of our submissions made the cut. I wonder what could’ve happened. Anyway, this is what he came up with.
“Leadership, It works until you ask it a question.”
How perfect is that?
At least now I have someone to talk to that has an intellect superior to that of a chimp. Which makes my day all the brighter.
Side Note: To the Friendly Ghost’s mom, if you want to know more about anything that I write or have any questions at all just ask me. He told me you were asking him about it at home and it agitated him a little bit. So if you got anything you want to know just ask. I’ll tell you whatever I can.
Moving on, not much else is going on. I’ve talked a little bit about this in the past but, 3rd platoon is running missions for the first time in like two months and they are managing to find every IED in this country. To which all I can really say is, “Better them than me.” And I still am wondering if I am going to hell for saying that. But none of them has gotten really hurt bad, and most importantly no one has died. I am beginning to wonder if the desensitization process that I am experiencing here is going to be permanent. Any time that something happens, regardless of what it is, I ask a simple question. “Did anyone die?” When I hear, “no” then I immediately want to go back to sleep and could care less about anything else to do with that situation. If it didn’t kill anyone then it’s not worth the time...
Pretty sick, huh?
I got to think about that a bit more.
I am done for now.
Later,
I love you mom...
Mar 8, 2009
Chasing Cock, And Other Random Shit...
So finally, after such an extended period of time, something funny happened. What happened? Well this chick and I chased some cock around the FOB!
Let that one sink in and marinate for a minute. Just let your brain run with that sentence. Trust me, it’ll be fun...
So now that you are done imagining what two soldiers chasing a cock looks like, I’ll give you the lowdown on what actually happened.
I was watching our trucks today, don’t ask me why because I don’t know. It’s an American FOB, with very few local nationals working here. I mean the Americans aren’t going to go anywhere and the local nationals, what are they going to do? Drive out the front gate with the damn thing. But I digress.
I was talking to a group of my fellow soldiers, bullshitting about this and that, uni-boobs and what not. (I’ll explain that one later) When I look up to see somewhat of a commotion developing over by the wall between our FOB and the ANP compound that is right next door. What is causing this commotion? A cock! Or a rooster, it’s the same animal really. Apparently, the ANP’s were getting ready to off this bird so they could eat it for dinner, but the thing got loose. Hopped the wall into our house and started to run around. Well one of the locals who works at the chow hall was talking to the ANP’s over the wall and started to chase this cock around.
Now being the naturally energetic and mischievous person that I am couldn’t resist. I started looking over at what was happening and I do believe that my leg started to bounce with excitement. So this girl that was there with us looks at me and says, “I’ll go if you go!” To which I responded, “I would love to chase the cock with you!”
Another first, I mean how many times in his life does a devoutly straight man get to say, “I would love to chase the cock with you!” To a girl, no less! Anyway, moving on.
So with that, she and I ran off to chase down this cock. It took us a few minutes and I thought I was in a “Rocky” movie for a minute there. But we managed to corner the thing, and the local worker from the chow hall grabbed the bird and gave it back to the ANP’s.
However, on the way back the worker, playfully nicknamed Babu, took the bird and kind of flung it at the the girl I was chasing the cock with. She responded by screaming like a little girl and running away from him. Which I found hilarious given the fact that she was the one who actually initiated this little chase. I find it funny how these chicks around here walk around all day with their bad ass personas on. They strap on their weapons and act just like us. These girls could make any normal man blush in about 3 seconds flat. I mean there are times when the profanity that flows from these wonderful young ladies mouths makes me take out a pen and paper and take notes! So it is infinitely entertaining for me when something, whatever it may be, in this case a cock, gets them to break down and act like girls again.
Well that is the story of me chasing cock. Hopefully, that’s the last time I can ever say that I chased some cock today.
Now another definition for you.
UNI-BOOB: In military terms.
The term used by soldiers to describe the way that female soldiers, especially “well endowed” female soldier’s chests look after wearing a sports bra that is entirely too tight for an extended period of time. After an entire day of missions where their assets are compressed underneath a sports bra and a bullet proof vest that is designed with men in mind, their breasts are compressed from a set into one breast. Hence the term, “Uni-Boob”
All the following should not be read by my mother. Yes, mom I am telling you that what I am about to write is not something that you would appreciate. I am still going to write it but I am telling you that all the following words in the alternate typeface should be completely disregarded by you! (How much does anyone want to bet that she reads it anyway?)
So do you all remember the kid that I convinced the girl he had a crush on was in love with him? Well he’s at it again. Entertaining me that is.
Now first let me say that, I love a good joke and if said joke is at my expense I will be gracious. I am not the type who gets really mad about shit like that, I just get even.
Well the first thing that this kid did was just so damn simple that it was brilliant.
He told me that he had a video of the girl that had been a part of my little scam. Apparently, this video was of her dancing on a bar in her birthday suit.
Well there is no way around the fact that I am a bit of a pig and if there is one thing that I would love to see it’s a girl, any girl for that matter, dancing on a bar bare assed to the world. This is fun for me.
But the fact that it was THIS girl was too much for me. I tried in vain to see this movie. Why? Because the little shit wouldn’t show it to me. So he jerked my chain about it for a few minutes. It lasted about 5 minutes. Then I realized what was happening and I have to say that I was just...so very PROUD of this kid.
I mean he found a button of mine and he pushed it. What’s the button? Naked girls! Especially ones that live just down the street from me.
So anyway, I have still not seen this movie. I don’t even know for sure if it exists. I asked her about it and she doesn’t know for sure. Which makes me all the more curious. But whatever. The little prick got under my skin...and for that I am so very proud of him.
Now the next story should not be read by you, mom, unless you want to lower your opinion of your first born son exponentially!
Second thing that he has done. Another momentous event that has made me so very proud of this young man.
Everyone here, all the males anyway, do something in particular copiously. What is this thing that we do so often you would think that we were going for the world record? Masturbate. (To all those readers disgusted by this, this story will last for the remainder of the time that I use this font so feel free to skip to the end.)
Anyway, part of the little game we play with the sheer number of times we have done it, which has gone by the wayside due to the fact that most of us cannot count that high, is we have taken to doing it in places where we probably shouldn’t and then bragging about it later.
What has this kid done? He has run the gamut of all the towers plus the ECP. Entry control point. Which is basically the front gate.
The towers is not that big of a deal. They are like little closets on stilts. They are enclosed and at night if you turn off all the lights no one can see you or what you are doing. So pretty much everyone who has been in those towers for more than three minutes by themselves has done it. I am really glad this blog is private. If the Taliban read this they would have a field day with it. How would you like to explain that one? Why did the enemy overrun your tower? Because I was punching the clown, SIR!
The ECP on the other hand, is a portentous accomplishment. You see, the ECP is right by this thing that we use to watch the entire FOB plus the surrounding areas. It is laden with cameras watching every move of every person on the FOB and every person within 25 kilometers of the FOB makes. It’s kind of like Vegas’s eye in the sky.
So with that thing breathing down your neck most of us have just decided that the repercussions of doing such a thing where the “man” can see you is just not worth the hassle.
Is that what this kid thought? Hell no, he said fuck the “man” I am going to do it anyway. So he waited until he was left alone for a few minutes at the ECP, dropped trou, and proceeded to spank Elvis. Therefore completing the cycle that so many have begun and yet only one has finished.
Once again, I am so very proud of him...but remember young man, age and treachery will always defeat youth and vigor. I am going to fuck you up!
I’ll leave you though, on a high note. Wouldn’t want everyone to think that this is just filth and debauchery followed by an IED or two.
We adopted an Afghani kid! Well not really, but close. There is a kid that works at the clinic. You have seen him, he’s the one holding the sign in that “Cubs Suck” picture I took.
This kid has been trying to get a job here forever. But the FOB mayor that we have is a dick. (FOB mayor is just like a city mayor, he handles all the contracting and public works and all that sort of shit while we get blown up) Anyway, the kid could never get a job. Finally, we had some work for him to do
We’re tearing down a building so that we can get to the beams they used to build the foundation so that we can use those to build a bridge over the shit moat that runs along side the FOB. (Yes we tear down an entire building just to get at 4 boards.) The shit moat is where everything that we don’t want goes. The dirty dish water, the shower water, the water from the laundry, the runoff from the piss tubes, you know all that stuff. Well we don’t want to fall into this moat if we ever have to hit the wall to defend this hole from the Taliban. I’d hate to have to say that I got medically evacuated from Afghanistan because I fell in a shit moat! I’d much rather get blown up or shot than spend one second soaking in there. So anyway, we are using this kid and the guys on extra duty to tear this building down.
So this kid is here everyday. And is he ever getting spoiled, but I got to give it to him, he is a hard worker and he tries really hard to make sure everyone likes him so that he can keep a job after this project is done. I hope he does, or I am going to have to do something heinous to the FOB mayor just to remind him not to be a dick!
But the other day as I was packing up all my shit to leave I found I had a bunch of stuff that all you wonderful people have sent that I can no longer use. Long underwear and t-shirts, and sweaters and what not. So I gave them to this kid. He’s got a whole bunch of Afghani winters left to go, my winter in this country is already over so what the hell. Hearing an Afghani kid say, “Good, very good” after he looks into a box of shit that I was about to throw out is priceless.
So there’s that, and the guy he is working with takes him to chow three times a day. So this kid gets eggs, and bacon and sausage, and all that, and then whatever they are serving for lunch and dinner too. I’ll bet this little shit is in seventh heaven with all the food we give him, not to mention I am sure that I am not the only person who has given him all the useless crap we have lying around. It’s a little depressing to think that something that I have no use for could be so valuable to someone who has next to shit. But there isn’t much I can do about that other than give it to him.
Then the crown jewel came. I was talking to the guy that he was working with, and he was telling me what a hard worker the kid is, and how helpful having him around is. I asked if he was getting paid for the work he was doing. The guy told me that he had to pay the kid out of his own pocket because the assholes in charge of this place wouldn’t pay him. Which I found admirable. The generosity of lower enlisted GI’s is really something to see. I asked how much the kid was making. He said he was getting $2.50 per hour. Which to this kid and his family is probably a mountain of money. So I couldn’t resist, I reached into my pocket and slipped the kid a $20 bill. I winked at him and went back to my room.
Funny part is, if I gave a $20 to an American kid he would run out and buy a toy, or candy or some shit. Either that, or he would complain that it wasn’t enough. This kid on the other hand will probably take that money home and feed his mother, father, sister and brother for a couple of weeks with that.
So why is that the crown jewel to me? Did I tell you that just to make myself feel better? Maybe a little bit, but for the most part I did that because I wanted to feel like I did something good while I was here.
My opinion of this command, and the things that we do here is well known to all of you. I did it because that is about the only way that I can help out in this country. My command has already taken from me all the other ways I could’ve helped. So my ability to help anyone has been reduced to slipping a kid something that, back home, would take me about 45 minutes to make, and yet he could use it to feed his entire family for God only knows how long.
How depressing...
And with that I am done.
Later,
I love you mom...
Let that one sink in and marinate for a minute. Just let your brain run with that sentence. Trust me, it’ll be fun...
So now that you are done imagining what two soldiers chasing a cock looks like, I’ll give you the lowdown on what actually happened.
I was watching our trucks today, don’t ask me why because I don’t know. It’s an American FOB, with very few local nationals working here. I mean the Americans aren’t going to go anywhere and the local nationals, what are they going to do? Drive out the front gate with the damn thing. But I digress.
I was talking to a group of my fellow soldiers, bullshitting about this and that, uni-boobs and what not. (I’ll explain that one later) When I look up to see somewhat of a commotion developing over by the wall between our FOB and the ANP compound that is right next door. What is causing this commotion? A cock! Or a rooster, it’s the same animal really. Apparently, the ANP’s were getting ready to off this bird so they could eat it for dinner, but the thing got loose. Hopped the wall into our house and started to run around. Well one of the locals who works at the chow hall was talking to the ANP’s over the wall and started to chase this cock around.
Now being the naturally energetic and mischievous person that I am couldn’t resist. I started looking over at what was happening and I do believe that my leg started to bounce with excitement. So this girl that was there with us looks at me and says, “I’ll go if you go!” To which I responded, “I would love to chase the cock with you!”
Another first, I mean how many times in his life does a devoutly straight man get to say, “I would love to chase the cock with you!” To a girl, no less! Anyway, moving on.
So with that, she and I ran off to chase down this cock. It took us a few minutes and I thought I was in a “Rocky” movie for a minute there. But we managed to corner the thing, and the local worker from the chow hall grabbed the bird and gave it back to the ANP’s.
However, on the way back the worker, playfully nicknamed Babu, took the bird and kind of flung it at the the girl I was chasing the cock with. She responded by screaming like a little girl and running away from him. Which I found hilarious given the fact that she was the one who actually initiated this little chase. I find it funny how these chicks around here walk around all day with their bad ass personas on. They strap on their weapons and act just like us. These girls could make any normal man blush in about 3 seconds flat. I mean there are times when the profanity that flows from these wonderful young ladies mouths makes me take out a pen and paper and take notes! So it is infinitely entertaining for me when something, whatever it may be, in this case a cock, gets them to break down and act like girls again.
Well that is the story of me chasing cock. Hopefully, that’s the last time I can ever say that I chased some cock today.
Now another definition for you.
UNI-BOOB: In military terms.
The term used by soldiers to describe the way that female soldiers, especially “well endowed” female soldier’s chests look after wearing a sports bra that is entirely too tight for an extended period of time. After an entire day of missions where their assets are compressed underneath a sports bra and a bullet proof vest that is designed with men in mind, their breasts are compressed from a set into one breast. Hence the term, “Uni-Boob”
All the following should not be read by my mother. Yes, mom I am telling you that what I am about to write is not something that you would appreciate. I am still going to write it but I am telling you that all the following words in the alternate typeface should be completely disregarded by you! (How much does anyone want to bet that she reads it anyway?)
So do you all remember the kid that I convinced the girl he had a crush on was in love with him? Well he’s at it again. Entertaining me that is.
Now first let me say that, I love a good joke and if said joke is at my expense I will be gracious. I am not the type who gets really mad about shit like that, I just get even.
Well the first thing that this kid did was just so damn simple that it was brilliant.
He told me that he had a video of the girl that had been a part of my little scam. Apparently, this video was of her dancing on a bar in her birthday suit.
Well there is no way around the fact that I am a bit of a pig and if there is one thing that I would love to see it’s a girl, any girl for that matter, dancing on a bar bare assed to the world. This is fun for me.
But the fact that it was THIS girl was too much for me. I tried in vain to see this movie. Why? Because the little shit wouldn’t show it to me. So he jerked my chain about it for a few minutes. It lasted about 5 minutes. Then I realized what was happening and I have to say that I was just...so very PROUD of this kid.
I mean he found a button of mine and he pushed it. What’s the button? Naked girls! Especially ones that live just down the street from me.
So anyway, I have still not seen this movie. I don’t even know for sure if it exists. I asked her about it and she doesn’t know for sure. Which makes me all the more curious. But whatever. The little prick got under my skin...and for that I am so very proud of him.
Now the next story should not be read by you, mom, unless you want to lower your opinion of your first born son exponentially!
Second thing that he has done. Another momentous event that has made me so very proud of this young man.
Everyone here, all the males anyway, do something in particular copiously. What is this thing that we do so often you would think that we were going for the world record? Masturbate. (To all those readers disgusted by this, this story will last for the remainder of the time that I use this font so feel free to skip to the end.)
Anyway, part of the little game we play with the sheer number of times we have done it, which has gone by the wayside due to the fact that most of us cannot count that high, is we have taken to doing it in places where we probably shouldn’t and then bragging about it later.
What has this kid done? He has run the gamut of all the towers plus the ECP. Entry control point. Which is basically the front gate.
The towers is not that big of a deal. They are like little closets on stilts. They are enclosed and at night if you turn off all the lights no one can see you or what you are doing. So pretty much everyone who has been in those towers for more than three minutes by themselves has done it. I am really glad this blog is private. If the Taliban read this they would have a field day with it. How would you like to explain that one? Why did the enemy overrun your tower? Because I was punching the clown, SIR!
The ECP on the other hand, is a portentous accomplishment. You see, the ECP is right by this thing that we use to watch the entire FOB plus the surrounding areas. It is laden with cameras watching every move of every person on the FOB and every person within 25 kilometers of the FOB makes. It’s kind of like Vegas’s eye in the sky.
So with that thing breathing down your neck most of us have just decided that the repercussions of doing such a thing where the “man” can see you is just not worth the hassle.
Is that what this kid thought? Hell no, he said fuck the “man” I am going to do it anyway. So he waited until he was left alone for a few minutes at the ECP, dropped trou, and proceeded to spank Elvis. Therefore completing the cycle that so many have begun and yet only one has finished.
Once again, I am so very proud of him...but remember young man, age and treachery will always defeat youth and vigor. I am going to fuck you up!
I’ll leave you though, on a high note. Wouldn’t want everyone to think that this is just filth and debauchery followed by an IED or two.
We adopted an Afghani kid! Well not really, but close. There is a kid that works at the clinic. You have seen him, he’s the one holding the sign in that “Cubs Suck” picture I took.
This kid has been trying to get a job here forever. But the FOB mayor that we have is a dick. (FOB mayor is just like a city mayor, he handles all the contracting and public works and all that sort of shit while we get blown up) Anyway, the kid could never get a job. Finally, we had some work for him to do
We’re tearing down a building so that we can get to the beams they used to build the foundation so that we can use those to build a bridge over the shit moat that runs along side the FOB. (Yes we tear down an entire building just to get at 4 boards.) The shit moat is where everything that we don’t want goes. The dirty dish water, the shower water, the water from the laundry, the runoff from the piss tubes, you know all that stuff. Well we don’t want to fall into this moat if we ever have to hit the wall to defend this hole from the Taliban. I’d hate to have to say that I got medically evacuated from Afghanistan because I fell in a shit moat! I’d much rather get blown up or shot than spend one second soaking in there. So anyway, we are using this kid and the guys on extra duty to tear this building down.
So this kid is here everyday. And is he ever getting spoiled, but I got to give it to him, he is a hard worker and he tries really hard to make sure everyone likes him so that he can keep a job after this project is done. I hope he does, or I am going to have to do something heinous to the FOB mayor just to remind him not to be a dick!
But the other day as I was packing up all my shit to leave I found I had a bunch of stuff that all you wonderful people have sent that I can no longer use. Long underwear and t-shirts, and sweaters and what not. So I gave them to this kid. He’s got a whole bunch of Afghani winters left to go, my winter in this country is already over so what the hell. Hearing an Afghani kid say, “Good, very good” after he looks into a box of shit that I was about to throw out is priceless.
So there’s that, and the guy he is working with takes him to chow three times a day. So this kid gets eggs, and bacon and sausage, and all that, and then whatever they are serving for lunch and dinner too. I’ll bet this little shit is in seventh heaven with all the food we give him, not to mention I am sure that I am not the only person who has given him all the useless crap we have lying around. It’s a little depressing to think that something that I have no use for could be so valuable to someone who has next to shit. But there isn’t much I can do about that other than give it to him.
Then the crown jewel came. I was talking to the guy that he was working with, and he was telling me what a hard worker the kid is, and how helpful having him around is. I asked if he was getting paid for the work he was doing. The guy told me that he had to pay the kid out of his own pocket because the assholes in charge of this place wouldn’t pay him. Which I found admirable. The generosity of lower enlisted GI’s is really something to see. I asked how much the kid was making. He said he was getting $2.50 per hour. Which to this kid and his family is probably a mountain of money. So I couldn’t resist, I reached into my pocket and slipped the kid a $20 bill. I winked at him and went back to my room.
Funny part is, if I gave a $20 to an American kid he would run out and buy a toy, or candy or some shit. Either that, or he would complain that it wasn’t enough. This kid on the other hand will probably take that money home and feed his mother, father, sister and brother for a couple of weeks with that.
So why is that the crown jewel to me? Did I tell you that just to make myself feel better? Maybe a little bit, but for the most part I did that because I wanted to feel like I did something good while I was here.
My opinion of this command, and the things that we do here is well known to all of you. I did it because that is about the only way that I can help out in this country. My command has already taken from me all the other ways I could’ve helped. So my ability to help anyone has been reduced to slipping a kid something that, back home, would take me about 45 minutes to make, and yet he could use it to feed his entire family for God only knows how long.
How depressing...
And with that I am done.
Later,
I love you mom...
Mar 6, 2009
COUNTERINTELLIGENCE? THESE ASSHOLES HAVE BEEN COUNTERING INTELLIGENCE THEIR WHOLE LIVES...
Wow, that is about all I can say about what is happening right now. There are no words that could accurately describe the level of idiocy that this company has sunk to. But I am going to give it a shot.
Now since there are only those I choose reading this, I can pretty much say whatever the hell I want and I will.
So there is this thing coming down here today. It’s called an RCP. Route Clearing Package. Basically it is a whole bunch of really big trucks, with some nifty little toys that find IED’s and what not, followed by a convoy of civilian trucks that are carrying all the supplies for all the different FOB’s that they will stop at during their trek across this great land.
We have been tasked with tower guard for the past couple of days and the next week or two. With tower guard comes the QRF, which is like the guys that run out to deal with any of the little problems that seem to arise around here all the damn time. Like a stuck vehicle, or a blown up vehicle, or some guy digging in the road. You know, all that shit.
Well the commander, in his infinite wisdom has made a decision that I have to take issue with. You see the RCP is being run by a new unit. So they don’t really have a good handle on what they are doing and as a consequence, they take longer than usual.
So the RCP is still pretty far away from us, but they still sent the other platoon out to meet them about 25 kilometers from our house. That was this morning at 0500. They still have not met up with the RCP and right now it is 1650. Needless to say this is going to be an all nighter. So the entirety of the other platoon is out doing this RCP thing. They were supposed to drive up there and meet them, and then show them the way back here. Simple enough mission, and something that actually makes sense. They took something like 12 trucks, and like 35 people up there. Which is more than enough. The route is pretty easy, and even though our intelligence reports say that this is the most dangerous route that we travel, it has never been a problem for any of us. Which always makes me laugh. The fact is that military intelligence is a joke of epic proportions. When we first got here they wouldn’t shut up about how the route that the other platoon is on is so dangerous, and we are going to get hit all the time, and blah, blah blah. Well the funny part is that the exact opposite has happened. We only get hit when we go the exact opposite direction. Not a damn thing has ever happened on this route that is apparently so dangerous.
Well someone once said that in any military intelligence report, 15% of what you are reading will be true. The trick is figuring out which 15%.
So now let’s take stock. The RCP has all their huge trucks, and guns and guys. Our other platoon has all their trucks, and guns and guys. So there is probably about 100 trucks all in a big group up there somewhere. Now because the new RCP is moving so damn slow, they are not going to be able to get here before dark. And the RCP does not move after dark. So they are going to do what they are trained to do, they are going to circle the wagons, set up some security, and get some sleep and they’ll make it the rest of the way here tomorrow.
What does our commander want to do? He wants to send the QRF up there to help with security. Okay, I guess I can see that you want to help the guys. However, there are other considerations that I think he may be neglecting. Half our fucking shooters are out there with the RCP, or at least waiting for them. The other half are here working the towers. So now of the half you have back here, you are going to send a third of them out to help secure a convoy of 100 or so trucks. He is going to send 15 guys, and 5 trucks to help these guys out! If I were them I would laugh at us, we are just going to be in the way.
Be advised, I kind of got interrupted. We got called out to go up north to help out with an Afghan Border Patrol soldier that got tore up by an IED. He’s dead. So it goes.
So because of that we couldn’t do what the commander wanted us to do. So I guess we got off the hook on that one. Too bad someone had to die.
And with that I do believe that the desensitization process is now complete. Maybe I’m wrong, hopefully I’m wrong. I really do hope that in the future someone dying is not going to be paramount to them not having chocolate cake with dinner for me. That would be wholly depressing.
Anyway, so now here we sit waiting for the RCP to get here. They should be here in an hour or so. So long as they don’t hit another IED or two, so long as Mr. Taliban man stays at home, and so long as the P.O.S. Military vehicles they drive keep running. Well then, they’ll probably be here next Tuesday.
Well there isn’t much else to tell you until the RCP gets back and we get the avalanche of war stories from 3rd platoon and the RCP guys. So with that I’ll leave you in the care and favor of the Lord.
Later,
I love you mom...
Now since there are only those I choose reading this, I can pretty much say whatever the hell I want and I will.
So there is this thing coming down here today. It’s called an RCP. Route Clearing Package. Basically it is a whole bunch of really big trucks, with some nifty little toys that find IED’s and what not, followed by a convoy of civilian trucks that are carrying all the supplies for all the different FOB’s that they will stop at during their trek across this great land.
We have been tasked with tower guard for the past couple of days and the next week or two. With tower guard comes the QRF, which is like the guys that run out to deal with any of the little problems that seem to arise around here all the damn time. Like a stuck vehicle, or a blown up vehicle, or some guy digging in the road. You know, all that shit.
Well the commander, in his infinite wisdom has made a decision that I have to take issue with. You see the RCP is being run by a new unit. So they don’t really have a good handle on what they are doing and as a consequence, they take longer than usual.
So the RCP is still pretty far away from us, but they still sent the other platoon out to meet them about 25 kilometers from our house. That was this morning at 0500. They still have not met up with the RCP and right now it is 1650. Needless to say this is going to be an all nighter. So the entirety of the other platoon is out doing this RCP thing. They were supposed to drive up there and meet them, and then show them the way back here. Simple enough mission, and something that actually makes sense. They took something like 12 trucks, and like 35 people up there. Which is more than enough. The route is pretty easy, and even though our intelligence reports say that this is the most dangerous route that we travel, it has never been a problem for any of us. Which always makes me laugh. The fact is that military intelligence is a joke of epic proportions. When we first got here they wouldn’t shut up about how the route that the other platoon is on is so dangerous, and we are going to get hit all the time, and blah, blah blah. Well the funny part is that the exact opposite has happened. We only get hit when we go the exact opposite direction. Not a damn thing has ever happened on this route that is apparently so dangerous.
Well someone once said that in any military intelligence report, 15% of what you are reading will be true. The trick is figuring out which 15%.
So now let’s take stock. The RCP has all their huge trucks, and guns and guys. Our other platoon has all their trucks, and guns and guys. So there is probably about 100 trucks all in a big group up there somewhere. Now because the new RCP is moving so damn slow, they are not going to be able to get here before dark. And the RCP does not move after dark. So they are going to do what they are trained to do, they are going to circle the wagons, set up some security, and get some sleep and they’ll make it the rest of the way here tomorrow.
What does our commander want to do? He wants to send the QRF up there to help with security. Okay, I guess I can see that you want to help the guys. However, there are other considerations that I think he may be neglecting. Half our fucking shooters are out there with the RCP, or at least waiting for them. The other half are here working the towers. So now of the half you have back here, you are going to send a third of them out to help secure a convoy of 100 or so trucks. He is going to send 15 guys, and 5 trucks to help these guys out! If I were them I would laugh at us, we are just going to be in the way.
Be advised, I kind of got interrupted. We got called out to go up north to help out with an Afghan Border Patrol soldier that got tore up by an IED. He’s dead. So it goes.
So because of that we couldn’t do what the commander wanted us to do. So I guess we got off the hook on that one. Too bad someone had to die.
And with that I do believe that the desensitization process is now complete. Maybe I’m wrong, hopefully I’m wrong. I really do hope that in the future someone dying is not going to be paramount to them not having chocolate cake with dinner for me. That would be wholly depressing.
Anyway, so now here we sit waiting for the RCP to get here. They should be here in an hour or so. So long as they don’t hit another IED or two, so long as Mr. Taliban man stays at home, and so long as the P.O.S. Military vehicles they drive keep running. Well then, they’ll probably be here next Tuesday.
Well there isn’t much else to tell you until the RCP gets back and we get the avalanche of war stories from 3rd platoon and the RCP guys. So with that I’ll leave you in the care and favor of the Lord.
Later,
I love you mom...
Hi, Ho, Hi, Ho, It's Back To Towers We Go...
So we just got notified that we have to go back on to the towers tonight at 2300. Fun for us. It’s always nice to work all day...and then work all night. But whatever, it’s easy duty.
Finally, my life is going to have some semblance of normalcy. An actual schedule even.
The funniest part is that 3rd platoon is all hopped up, all excited that they actually get to go outside the wire a few times prior to us moving. Well that’ll clear up once they go boom. But we should let them have their moment in the sun.
Other than that there is not a damn thing going on around here. Once again, this is the most boring war ever! Sooner or later I think they are going to cancel the whole thing for lack of interest.
There are a few perks to going over to the towers though. At least we will not have to do all the stupid little details and jobs that come up around here. 3rd is going to have to do all that shit now. They are going to get a taste of the Combat Blue Balls that we have all been experiencing here as of late. They get to see what it’s like to get all dressed up, only to have them tell you that the air is not flyable and stand you down. They’ll get a taste of what these patrols are like. Just a whole bunch of driving around waiting for the road to go boom. They’ll get to see what it’s like to have the road go boom, and then have the commander tell them not to do anything about it. I just hope that it’s everything you hoped it would be guys. Because take it from me, it’s not that big of a deal. As a matter of fact it is a rather large bag of ass, but you’ll know that soon enough.
All right, I am done for now.
Later,
I love you mom...
Finally, my life is going to have some semblance of normalcy. An actual schedule even.
The funniest part is that 3rd platoon is all hopped up, all excited that they actually get to go outside the wire a few times prior to us moving. Well that’ll clear up once they go boom. But we should let them have their moment in the sun.
Other than that there is not a damn thing going on around here. Once again, this is the most boring war ever! Sooner or later I think they are going to cancel the whole thing for lack of interest.
There are a few perks to going over to the towers though. At least we will not have to do all the stupid little details and jobs that come up around here. 3rd is going to have to do all that shit now. They are going to get a taste of the Combat Blue Balls that we have all been experiencing here as of late. They get to see what it’s like to get all dressed up, only to have them tell you that the air is not flyable and stand you down. They’ll get a taste of what these patrols are like. Just a whole bunch of driving around waiting for the road to go boom. They’ll get to see what it’s like to have the road go boom, and then have the commander tell them not to do anything about it. I just hope that it’s everything you hoped it would be guys. Because take it from me, it’s not that big of a deal. As a matter of fact it is a rather large bag of ass, but you’ll know that soon enough.
All right, I am done for now.
Later,
I love you mom...
Ah, And Now We Have To Move...
Well the level of suck has just been raised. I haven’t talked about it much because it was just speculation and rumors, or at least that’s what I hoped it was. Apparently, I was wrong. Hmm, it seems that me being wrong is becoming a common theme around here.
What was I wrong about? Well the title should tell you, we have to move. We have to pick up from the FOB we are currently at and move to another one. This one further north and closer to the border. Fun for us.
Not really, but I guess it will be good because it will break up the deployment. It will be a kind of half way marker for me. We’ll move at the end of this month, and by the time we make it there which is supposed to take like ten days, we’ll have like less than six months to go on this little adventure of ours.
So what does this mean for me? Well we already saw pictures of the place that we are going to and it seems that they are jamming an entire company of soldiers into a place that was built with maybe two platoons in mind. You could walk from one end of this place to the other in about two minutes. Depressing. We have to take all these trucks, all the medical supplies, all the food, all the equipment, all our personal shit, and all the rest of it, load it into our trucks, and drive from here to there.
The unit that is replacing us is going to be here in about two weeks, so that should be fun. All the females here will go ga-ga over all the new guys that are here. We’ll still be here for another week after they get here so that will be plenty of time for at least a few Article 15’s and OEF babies to be produced. (Dear God, I hope not, but I do tend to think the worst of people)
Right now though the big deal is the RCP. The Route Clearing Package, who is coming down from another FOB north of us. They are bringing with them the largest convoy that has ever gone this far south in the history of this conflict. Or so that is what they (our leadership) has been telling us. So, if that is true, I get to be a part of Operation Enduring Freedom history! Well, someone get me a cookie.
So I guess I should take stock of what has happened so far. You know, given the fact that this is half over with and all. I have yet to be blown up, personally I mean. I have yet to fire my weapon in anger. I have yet to do anything of what I would consider any real consequence. All I have really done here is drive around Afghanistan, lay around the FOB, play poker, smoke entirely too many cigarettes, write 342 (so far) pages of bullshit, and punch the clown. How very depressing. Ah, so be it. Nothing I can do about it, so why worry about it.
Well all is not lost. I have come to grips with a whole lot of stupid shit in my own head. Not to mention, I am going to be debt free for the first time in my adult life. Which I have to admit has become the all consuming passion of this entire deployment for me. What else am I going to worry about? I think I might go on another one just to save up a shit ton of cash for later. I mean how many 30 year old guys in this day and age, literally owe money to no one? So I’d have to say that that is a very good thing. I might even be able to save up a few bucks before I leave and then when I get home and I don’t have any bills then life should be really good. At least for a while, until I have to get a new car, and a new place to live and plunge myself right back into a mountain of debt. Once again, fun for me.
But back to this moving shit. I cannot help but think that whoever is in charge of this whole thing. I mean the whole country, or at least the section of the country that we are in, is hiding us away from all the action to ensure that we can’t fuck anything up.
Regardless of why we are moving, I have some work to do. It’s time to trim the fat. I have to say I have gotten used to this place. It’s heaven given the country that we are in. I mean we have plenty of space, we have computers, we have TV, we have all that creature comfort shit. Now we are headed somewhere that doesn’t have any of that kind of stuff. Not to mention, and I am not complaining here. Given the tremendous outpouring of support that I have gotten from about a hundred different places, I have a mountain of shit. Just about everything that an entire squad of GI’s could need, I’ve got and I have jammed it all into a space roughly the size of a Chevy Monte Carlo. I know this, because this room is about as big as my old car.
But the new personality is mellow, so I am going to stay just that...mellow. Calm as a Hindu Cow.
Later,
I love you mom...
What was I wrong about? Well the title should tell you, we have to move. We have to pick up from the FOB we are currently at and move to another one. This one further north and closer to the border. Fun for us.
Not really, but I guess it will be good because it will break up the deployment. It will be a kind of half way marker for me. We’ll move at the end of this month, and by the time we make it there which is supposed to take like ten days, we’ll have like less than six months to go on this little adventure of ours.
So what does this mean for me? Well we already saw pictures of the place that we are going to and it seems that they are jamming an entire company of soldiers into a place that was built with maybe two platoons in mind. You could walk from one end of this place to the other in about two minutes. Depressing. We have to take all these trucks, all the medical supplies, all the food, all the equipment, all our personal shit, and all the rest of it, load it into our trucks, and drive from here to there.
The unit that is replacing us is going to be here in about two weeks, so that should be fun. All the females here will go ga-ga over all the new guys that are here. We’ll still be here for another week after they get here so that will be plenty of time for at least a few Article 15’s and OEF babies to be produced. (Dear God, I hope not, but I do tend to think the worst of people)
Right now though the big deal is the RCP. The Route Clearing Package, who is coming down from another FOB north of us. They are bringing with them the largest convoy that has ever gone this far south in the history of this conflict. Or so that is what they (our leadership) has been telling us. So, if that is true, I get to be a part of Operation Enduring Freedom history! Well, someone get me a cookie.
So I guess I should take stock of what has happened so far. You know, given the fact that this is half over with and all. I have yet to be blown up, personally I mean. I have yet to fire my weapon in anger. I have yet to do anything of what I would consider any real consequence. All I have really done here is drive around Afghanistan, lay around the FOB, play poker, smoke entirely too many cigarettes, write 342 (so far) pages of bullshit, and punch the clown. How very depressing. Ah, so be it. Nothing I can do about it, so why worry about it.
Well all is not lost. I have come to grips with a whole lot of stupid shit in my own head. Not to mention, I am going to be debt free for the first time in my adult life. Which I have to admit has become the all consuming passion of this entire deployment for me. What else am I going to worry about? I think I might go on another one just to save up a shit ton of cash for later. I mean how many 30 year old guys in this day and age, literally owe money to no one? So I’d have to say that that is a very good thing. I might even be able to save up a few bucks before I leave and then when I get home and I don’t have any bills then life should be really good. At least for a while, until I have to get a new car, and a new place to live and plunge myself right back into a mountain of debt. Once again, fun for me.
But back to this moving shit. I cannot help but think that whoever is in charge of this whole thing. I mean the whole country, or at least the section of the country that we are in, is hiding us away from all the action to ensure that we can’t fuck anything up.
Regardless of why we are moving, I have some work to do. It’s time to trim the fat. I have to say I have gotten used to this place. It’s heaven given the country that we are in. I mean we have plenty of space, we have computers, we have TV, we have all that creature comfort shit. Now we are headed somewhere that doesn’t have any of that kind of stuff. Not to mention, and I am not complaining here. Given the tremendous outpouring of support that I have gotten from about a hundred different places, I have a mountain of shit. Just about everything that an entire squad of GI’s could need, I’ve got and I have jammed it all into a space roughly the size of a Chevy Monte Carlo. I know this, because this room is about as big as my old car.
But the new personality is mellow, so I am going to stay just that...mellow. Calm as a Hindu Cow.
Later,
I love you mom...
ONE AFGHAN NATIONAL POLICE COMMANDER, ONE AFGHANI FLAG, AND ONE KNIFE (AT LEAST SOMETHING HAPPENED TODAY)...
This is a strange country with some strange customs. Most of which I have absolutely zero knowledge of before I walk right into them with my rather cumbersome American boots.
So here’s what happened this time. The other day when I went out to the clinic I traded one of the Afghan National Police Officers a knife for an Afghan flag. What can I say, I wanted one. No big deal right? Well apparently not.
Today I got a visit from the ANP commander at my barracks room. Which was uncomfortable to say the least. He brought with him, the ANP First Sergeant, and a Captain from the medical section of our FOB. He is important enough to warrant an officer escort.
I have to admit that when they first showed up I started to wonder if I had possibly broken some international law and was about to be arrested. Luckily for me, that was not the case.
The commander then explained to me that the flag I had traded for was a flag that many ANP’s had died under. Which made it a special flag, not one that could be traded. Flags are not tradable items, they can only be given as a gift. Turns out that the guy who gave it to me was punished severely. He was a new guy, he didn’t know any better. But there is nothing that I can do about that so we will just have to let that one roll off.
He continued to say that he was returning my knife and was bringing me another Afghan flag as a gift. Apparently hospitality is a pretty big deal to Muslims. So he presented me with the flag, and I must say that it is a nice one. Brand new, with the Afghan national crest and all the verses from the Koran and what not on the front.
So he returned my knife and presented the flag to me, folded up by one of his soldiers, and he shook my hand and apologized profusely for all that had gone on. Personally, I couldn’t have cared less, I was wondering what was happening to the guy who had traded me for the knife. Afghan discipline can be some pretty severe stuff. The commander even went so far as to sign the flag for me. Which I have to admit was pretty cool. I mean how many people have shit like this? Not too many.
So that is how that all went. It is a bit humorous to me that the ANP commander hates my commander with a passion and is almost to the point of refusing to work with the man, he already refuses to meet with him. He’ll just send his guys over to go out on mission with us. And yet he takes the time to come and right a wrong between the ANP’s and a lowly enlisted soldier in the U.S. Army.
So I guess that I did my part for international relations today. Felt pretty good.
Anyway, I am done now.
Later,
I love you mom...
So here’s what happened this time. The other day when I went out to the clinic I traded one of the Afghan National Police Officers a knife for an Afghan flag. What can I say, I wanted one. No big deal right? Well apparently not.
Today I got a visit from the ANP commander at my barracks room. Which was uncomfortable to say the least. He brought with him, the ANP First Sergeant, and a Captain from the medical section of our FOB. He is important enough to warrant an officer escort.
I have to admit that when they first showed up I started to wonder if I had possibly broken some international law and was about to be arrested. Luckily for me, that was not the case.
The commander then explained to me that the flag I had traded for was a flag that many ANP’s had died under. Which made it a special flag, not one that could be traded. Flags are not tradable items, they can only be given as a gift. Turns out that the guy who gave it to me was punished severely. He was a new guy, he didn’t know any better. But there is nothing that I can do about that so we will just have to let that one roll off.
He continued to say that he was returning my knife and was bringing me another Afghan flag as a gift. Apparently hospitality is a pretty big deal to Muslims. So he presented me with the flag, and I must say that it is a nice one. Brand new, with the Afghan national crest and all the verses from the Koran and what not on the front.
So he returned my knife and presented the flag to me, folded up by one of his soldiers, and he shook my hand and apologized profusely for all that had gone on. Personally, I couldn’t have cared less, I was wondering what was happening to the guy who had traded me for the knife. Afghan discipline can be some pretty severe stuff. The commander even went so far as to sign the flag for me. Which I have to admit was pretty cool. I mean how many people have shit like this? Not too many.
So that is how that all went. It is a bit humorous to me that the ANP commander hates my commander with a passion and is almost to the point of refusing to work with the man, he already refuses to meet with him. He’ll just send his guys over to go out on mission with us. And yet he takes the time to come and right a wrong between the ANP’s and a lowly enlisted soldier in the U.S. Army.
So I guess that I did my part for international relations today. Felt pretty good.
Anyway, I am done now.
Later,
I love you mom...
SO I HAVE DEFINITELY BEEN LOSING MY SENSE OF HUMOR LATELY...
I assume that if my mother has noticed the rather sullen tone of the majority of my recent posts, save the two about the fabulous jokes that fly around this place like so many grains of Afghani sand. Other than that, if you haven’t noticed I have been in a pretty pissy mood.
I have been abundantly clear as to why. It’s because this war has turned out to be so much less than I had hoped for. (And yes, I do realize that I should probably be very thankful for that fact, but it still sucks.)
So I have come to a conclusion. And the conclusion is that I will let that which does not matter truly slide. (Homage to Fight Club) I read the serenity prayer just a minute ago and I decided to write this, because in all of about 5 seconds I made my peace with this war, I made my peace with this command, I made my peace with this place, and I made peace with myself. To hell with it all, there isn’t a thing in the world that I can do about it, so I am not going to allow it to make me nuts!
I know that is a lot of peacemaking in a short period of time for someone who’s soul purpose is war.
Anyway, we all know how that goofy prayer goes. Serenity, things I can change, things I cannot and la di da di da. But the words took up residence in my brain and luckily for me, my brain processed, understood, and reacted to the words favorably.
So I have little choice but to let this whole thing slide. Given the fact that right now, and at my present station in life there is next to shit I can do about any of it. (Damn demotions!)
I don’t know why today turned out to be the day that all this peace came crashing down. Maybe it had something to do with the pissy mood that I woke up in this morning. I do that from time to time. Normally, I am really loud, gregarious, and funny, obnoxious even. But today when I hauled my ass out of bed I just was in no mood for any of it. I didn’t even want to talk. So I didn’t.
Apparently, there are a lot more people here that care about me than I was willing to previously admit. I think all of you have realized that I don’t like to identify myself with anyone other than me. I don’t like to think of myself as dependent on anyone, for anything. Yeah, I always have wanted to think of myself as the one guy who could be an island. Well, I am full of shit.
I didn’t get it right away but it worked out for me. Almost immediately after getting out of bed and acting the way I was. (Like a 2 year old who just got his favorite toy taken away) People started to ask me what was wrong. When I wouldn’t tell them, they chased me around about it. Annoying as it was, I couldn’t help but realize that, “Hey asshole, these people care about you and want to make sure everything is Okay!, or at least they want to make sure that they haven’t given live ammunition to a psychopath.” Either way, I am loved.
Turns out that there are at least eleven really annoying yet caring people on this FOB, and that was just the ones that hit me up prior to lunch when I snapped out of it. I still cannot bring myself to admit any form of weakness to anyone though. I just told them that I was playing a game to see how many people would ask me what was wrong during the course of the day. One thing at a time people, I am an emotional infant. First I realize this stuff in my own brain, now tomorrow maybe I’ll actually share some of what’s inside of me with those around me. I wouldn’t count on it, but it’s possible. Why do you think I write this? Because it’s a helluva lot easier than actually having to say any of it to anyone in particular.
So in addition to coming to grips with the bag of ass that is this whole situation, I have come to another realization. This isn’t about the war, this isn’t about terror, this isn’t about Afghanistan, or the United States, or me, or the politicians, or the officers, or money, or duty, or honor, or any of the rest of the shit that is spoon fed to us.
The only thing that matters, the only thing that really matters is the guys. The guys next to me. The ones that are going through all the same shit I am going through. The guys who have been there with me when the road went boom. The guys that have been there when the bullets started to fly. The guys who have been there when I was dangling a hot dog from my button fly. The guys who have been there...always. The guys who were there to ask me what was wrong when I would’ve been perfectly content to set the entire world ablaze. Yeah even those annoying pricks.
The guys. That’s it.
And that’s good enough for me.
I’m done.
Later,
I love you mom...
I have been abundantly clear as to why. It’s because this war has turned out to be so much less than I had hoped for. (And yes, I do realize that I should probably be very thankful for that fact, but it still sucks.)
So I have come to a conclusion. And the conclusion is that I will let that which does not matter truly slide. (Homage to Fight Club) I read the serenity prayer just a minute ago and I decided to write this, because in all of about 5 seconds I made my peace with this war, I made my peace with this command, I made my peace with this place, and I made peace with myself. To hell with it all, there isn’t a thing in the world that I can do about it, so I am not going to allow it to make me nuts!
I know that is a lot of peacemaking in a short period of time for someone who’s soul purpose is war.
Anyway, we all know how that goofy prayer goes. Serenity, things I can change, things I cannot and la di da di da. But the words took up residence in my brain and luckily for me, my brain processed, understood, and reacted to the words favorably.
So I have little choice but to let this whole thing slide. Given the fact that right now, and at my present station in life there is next to shit I can do about any of it. (Damn demotions!)
I don’t know why today turned out to be the day that all this peace came crashing down. Maybe it had something to do with the pissy mood that I woke up in this morning. I do that from time to time. Normally, I am really loud, gregarious, and funny, obnoxious even. But today when I hauled my ass out of bed I just was in no mood for any of it. I didn’t even want to talk. So I didn’t.
Apparently, there are a lot more people here that care about me than I was willing to previously admit. I think all of you have realized that I don’t like to identify myself with anyone other than me. I don’t like to think of myself as dependent on anyone, for anything. Yeah, I always have wanted to think of myself as the one guy who could be an island. Well, I am full of shit.
I didn’t get it right away but it worked out for me. Almost immediately after getting out of bed and acting the way I was. (Like a 2 year old who just got his favorite toy taken away) People started to ask me what was wrong. When I wouldn’t tell them, they chased me around about it. Annoying as it was, I couldn’t help but realize that, “Hey asshole, these people care about you and want to make sure everything is Okay!, or at least they want to make sure that they haven’t given live ammunition to a psychopath.” Either way, I am loved.
Turns out that there are at least eleven really annoying yet caring people on this FOB, and that was just the ones that hit me up prior to lunch when I snapped out of it. I still cannot bring myself to admit any form of weakness to anyone though. I just told them that I was playing a game to see how many people would ask me what was wrong during the course of the day. One thing at a time people, I am an emotional infant. First I realize this stuff in my own brain, now tomorrow maybe I’ll actually share some of what’s inside of me with those around me. I wouldn’t count on it, but it’s possible. Why do you think I write this? Because it’s a helluva lot easier than actually having to say any of it to anyone in particular.
So in addition to coming to grips with the bag of ass that is this whole situation, I have come to another realization. This isn’t about the war, this isn’t about terror, this isn’t about Afghanistan, or the United States, or me, or the politicians, or the officers, or money, or duty, or honor, or any of the rest of the shit that is spoon fed to us.
The only thing that matters, the only thing that really matters is the guys. The guys next to me. The ones that are going through all the same shit I am going through. The guys who have been there with me when the road went boom. The guys that have been there when the bullets started to fly. The guys who have been there when I was dangling a hot dog from my button fly. The guys who have been there...always. The guys who were there to ask me what was wrong when I would’ve been perfectly content to set the entire world ablaze. Yeah even those annoying pricks.
The guys. That’s it.
And that’s good enough for me.
I’m done.
Later,
I love you mom...
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