Gratutious tank pics

The Beast. (Actually, this is Blue 2, from my 3rd Platoon) The big toy on the front is a mine roller. Its job is to crush mines and set them off. Mkes for an interesting day sometimes.

Not exatly sure what I'm doing

Trying to figure out how to add pictures/do image hosting. Bear with me if this doesn't work...

You should be able to click on the picture for a bigger one. This is what happens when I get shot at from palm groves. The secondary explosions made me feel quite vindicated here.

The Boy.

The kids. Adelle and Creighton. 

Top 5 dumb things I did this week

Top five dumb things I did this week.

1. Going on mission with the wrong eyewear.

Note to self: It gets dark at night. Just because you roll out at noon, don’t expect to be home by dark. We never go outside the wire without eye and ear protection. I am a nazi about it, and the boys don’t ever not do it, because they value their eyesight (and their paychecks—if I catch them without the glasses). The eyewear of choice is the Wiley-X sunglasses. (For those who are thinking about them, I’ve used the following models: SG-1, SG-1 V-cut, CQC Goggle, XL-1, and PT-1. Every model except the PT-1 fogs up like the golden gate bridge. I had to poke holes with a hot needle in the lenses of the SG-1s to mitigate it, and cut out some of the foam around the lens, but it still isn’t enough.) Anyway, there I am, sitting at an OP, in the middle of the night, wearing sunglasses. Choice between being blind, and risking being blinded. I compromised. The NVGs I was using (A/N PVS 14, for those who are interested) are monocular, so I popped out one of the lenses on the SG-1s and put the NVG over that eye, and kept the other one in. Sure, I have the clear lenses for the SG-1s. They were in a pouch on my shelf when I left.

2. When The Pin on Mr. Grenade is Pulled, he is not our friend.

Note to self: As far as grenades go, I don’t schlep around the frags. I keep them in the truck until I need them, which is usually right before I get out of the truck to raid something. No point in a) carrying the extra weight (they are a little over 1 LB each) and b) risking getting them snagged on one of the other hundreds of things I have tied to me. Now, I do carry smoke grenades in my pouches. A red one for MEDEVAC, and a purple for marking, and a white one for obscuration. I also carry a flashbang, because it can serve my purposes until the frags are needed. Well we needed a smoke grenade to mark our position for the whirlybirds who were helping us look for bad guys in the palm groves. I reached into my pouch, pulled a smoke grenade, pulled (and subsequently tossed away) the pin, and realized I was holding the wring friggin grenade. Mr. Flashbang sat there in my hand. It’s the same size and shape as a smoke grenade, and I couldn’t tell the different texture because I was wearing gloves. The spoon is taped down when it rides in the pouch, but I’d already torn that off, so I couldn’t set it next to me. Sure I could throw it, but it’s really loud and everyone would think we were being attacked. So I said “Here, hold this” to my driver, took out the marking grenade, and tossed it instead, this time keeping the pin, which I put back in the flashbang. Stupid is as stupid does.

3. If god wanted me to eat goats, he’d have made me an Arab.

Note to self: The food here will give you the squirts. Never drink the water, unless boiled. Goat actually tastes a lot like pork. (another note to self: Don’t feel the need to share this with Muslims who are providing the goat) Really greasy pork. Ever eat a plate of really greasy pork chops? Ones that were cooked in canal water? Ever feel your intestines percolate like a coffee pot? You may have to eat the food to not offend, but don’t eat hearty, and take an immodium. (another note to self: a) carry immodium on your truck b) carry baby wipes.) Since I use hand sanitizer religiously—I don’t carry the wipes with me. Holding it is usually the best course of action. Wait until I can get back to the little plastic box to poop. Well, that wasn’t necessarily in the cards. I’ll spare you the details, save to say that I could have shit on a screen door and not hit a wire.

4. Clipping the mic to your helmet is a bad idea.

The hand-mic. It has a clip on the back for some unknown reason. You need it to hear and talk on the radio, and the clip holds it almost perfectly to your head while wearing a helmet. This allows you to do other things with your hands. Like drink coffee, play with your map, scratch yourself… you know, other things. When dismounted, clipping on your helmet keeps your hands free for shooting and other stuff.

When you have to get out of the truck in a hurry, having something attached to your head that is also tethered to the truck is not so good. You end up wrapped up in the cord, lying on the ground with a very sore neck.

5. Portajons stink. (Note to self, for extended sitting sessions, bring air fresheners.) My life is getting entirely too poop-centric. We don’t have plumbing, so I crap in a plastic box. Just like everyone else. These boxes sit in the sun all day and ferment, for lack of a better term. They are emptied daily, but after Mexican night in the DFAC, they get a lot of repeat customers in 24 hours. Must remember to keep the anti-stink spray close by the wipes.

Okay, the last one wasn’t all that dumb, just forgetful.

Chuck

Kids, and other evil thoughts

The kids here (god bless them, most of them actually like us until they hit about 14) love anything with American writing on it. I saw a little boy the other day wearing (and I am not making this up) a "Southern by birth, Redneck by the grace of god" shirt with the confederate flag on it. I saw another boy wearing a pink 3/4 sleeve Barbie shirt. (Yeah, gender roles/Sexist/whatever). Well, if anyone out there can get kids sized "Pork: the other white meat" shirts, send them my way. I'll get pictures!

No matter how corny the slogan, the kids love anything we give them. I don't know if its hearts an minds, or just human decency, but I really like the kids here-we talk to them, play with them, give them candy and stickers, and they usually start the "Mistah Mistah! give me ....." after they realize that we are not there to arrest daddy or shoot anyone. Lack of kids in town is a bad thing, as is kids that don't smile and wave. Usually it means their parents are being intimidated.

Chuck

Ansar al-Sunna

Rot in hell, you bastards.

No, not our boys. These boys. This morning, a very, very early morning, the Fighting Aces were kicking in doors with the IA and raiding houses. Our target was a cell of Ansar al-Sunna operating in my Nahiya. I was pretty nervous about this one, given the targets and their location. The town that they were in is a maze of family blocks, narrows streets and alleys, and only has one way in or out. Potentially, it could have become a hornet’s nest, with us surrounded and bad guys running amok. Luckily, the town is supportive of the ISF and Coalition Forces. The town’s Sheikh is a really good guy, and his son led the raid on one of the objectives.

We hit three objectives, the first two simultaneously. They did not resist. In the cell leader’s house, we found various documents, but the most interesting thing was some Korean coins. Now where in the hell would your average Iraqi find those? Probably from the pockets of their prisoners. I can’t verify that (yet) but it seems the logical choice. Perhaps given as a trophy from one cell to another.

I don’t know if these are the guys responsible for the kidnappings. I don’t really care. These guys are terrorists. They are untermensch. Yes, I know the connotation that gives them (and me, I suppose, for using it.) If it was up to me, I would hunt them down, kill them, their families, associates, and friends. Punishment for terrorists should be old-testament angry-god style.

Now my (already terrible) sleep patterns are all messed up.

Score one for the good guys.

Today is Memorial Day.

It feels more like Monday, which is to say that it feels like every other day here. There will be the ceremonies here (which, I am told, may be postponed so the media can be there—such is the PAO life). Back at home, there will be parades, remembrances, sermons, speeches, days in the park with family, cookouts, sales, parties, and another long weekend.

I won’t tell you how to celebrate, or what to think about Memorial Day. For some it is a day of remembrance, for others, a day of mourning, and others, just another day off. Truth be told, back home I would probably spend this day like most other off-days, working in the Yard in a pair of shorts, sweaty, dirty, walking around barefoot and shirtless, showing my gut. I might even be brewing some beer, to be ready in time for Independence Day. Maybe the Mrs. would nag me into going to the lake, or at least taking the kids to the park. She’d have errands to run, or stuff to do in the house, the kids would drive her nuts and she’d push them outside to play with me… “Watch the kids while you operate that table saw/chop wood/work on the car/mow the lawn. “ And five minutes later… ”Honey, where are the kids?” I swear babe, they were right here a minute ago!

Later, off to the neighbors for a BBQ and conversation, drinks until we all either get loopy or tired, and stumble home, realizing that PT is just a few hours away.

But I can’t do any of that here. Over Here, the remembrance slaps you in the face. Two of the guys we will mention at the memorial died two days ago. Any one of us could be next. I am conducting a mission at oh-dark early and I could be next. Then again, the mission could go swimmingly and I could catch AMZ without a fight.

So I have reverted into deployment mode. Here I celebrate no holidays; days of the week are meaningless. There is no Christmas to remind me that I can’t watch the kids open presents, there is no St Pats day to drink green beer and get piss drunk. No New Years. No April Fools. I did remember my anniversary. And the kids birthdays. They are their holidays, and special to me, but I will likely realize my own birthday about three days after it happens.

So what will I remember about this memorial day? I’ll let you know tomorrow.

Chuck

Feeling the power of the Dark Side

I saw Sith last night. It was commander’s movie night, where all the company commanders and first sergeants gather for some forced family fun and siddown, shuddup, and watch a movie. Sith hit the LN shop on the FOB about 2 days after it was released in theaters. (Splain to me again, Lucy, how the intraweb is to blame for this? Almost nobody here has broadband access, yet DVD copies of the movie appear within 48 ours of its release?) I think we paid five bucks for the movie. Anyway, I figured it out halfway through. Anakin becomes Vader because for all that seeing into the future stuff, not one Jedi could see that Palpatine was a sith lord and Anakin was a dupe. Unfortunately, it will take three more movies for Vader to figure it out.

Actually, I believe it’s a Boy named Sue complex that caused all this. Even his wife calls him Annie. She may well have called him Nancy or Sally. Add the long hair, predilection for black leather, and he was a pair of assless chaps away from hanging out at the blue oyster on dress-like-a-bad-cop Thursdays. Anakin felt he had to overcome his overt homosexuality.

One last thing. Didja notice that the Deathstar was under construction at the same time Vader was healed? It was only “fully Operational” by they time Luke was grown and episode IV started. Who was building this thing, friggin teamsters and the UAW?

But an enjoyable flick, nonetheless. I still don’t understand why everyone is so hyped up about the muppet lightsaber duels. Ever notice that Yoda sounds A LOT like Grover?

Chuck

Vengeance

We caught the Bastards who did this. Credit goes to the Iraqi Army for their help, and the only thing I am sorry about is that there were too many witnesses at the time of their capture. You know what they say about the number of people who can keep a secret. I didn’t think you’d hear about it in the MSM, but would like to know.

Chuck

Ranting on Parliamentary Procedure (In My World)

Politics

You should write about what you know. Even then you should only write about what interests you.

I’m doing neither. I am writing abut our elected officials, particularly the US Senate. Lately, there’s been much discussion about the nuclear option, the gang of 14, the back door deals and the compromises. It pisses me off.

I vote. If there is one civic duty I adhere to, it is voting. It is my right, and more so, my duty. Duty is not a word to be taken lightly. Ingrained in me since the cub scouts, (…promise to do my best, to do my duty, to god and my country, to help other people and obey the laws of the pack.)

Senators (the house of lords) are supposed to represent their constituents. The majority in the senate is republican, and as such, the idea is that the majority party generally represents the general views of the American voting public. The senators are supposed to have the backbone to override the weaker, less representative party, because they represent more of us than minority senators do. As citizens, and voters, we are supposed to have the backbone to tell our politicians what we want them to do. Do this or lose my vote next time is a good tool, but I actually prefer “Do this or we’ll recall your sorry ass and fire you. This is not what we are paying you for.” People seem to forget that these guys work for us. We hold the power. We can demand that they do what we want, or we can demand that they go home.

14 senators come to an agreement, behind closed doors, that effectively stymies the other 86. Their respective parties should officially chastise, or otherwise censure them, for not playing ball. They are really just trying to make names for themselves as the “Great Facilitators” or whatever it is that they want to be called. The biggest name among the bunch is John McCain. I don’t know a lot about him, other than that he was a POW in Vietnam, that he can’t straighten his arms because they were broken so many times by his captors, and that he is an outspoken person who acts on what he believes is the right thing. I respect that. I respect his position. I believe that he was pure in thought and goals before he got to Washington and joined the Parliament of Whores (nod to P.J. O’Rourke).

Maybe Senator McCain brokered the deal. Maybe he has ulterior motives. Maybe not. All I know is that we, the people, elected George Bush as our leader. We, the people, elected a majority senate. They, the senate, are supposed to do our bidding. They, the senate, are pissing and moaning over selections for our supreme courts, UN representatives, and everything else. We, the people, voted for change. The people we elected are not showing enough spine to make that change. During elections people talk a lot about principles and values. If I tell you I will do something, I will do it to the best of my ability. I will not use nuances or quibbling to get around doing it.

I want a senator who will say “Fuck you Peons. You don’t represent America or Americans. If you did, there’d be more of you in this room. I demand a vote right now.” I would respect that. Of course, every last one of our representatives would then immediately issue an apology for such harsh language and unprofessionalism. And try to make nice with the moderates, and secure their next few years of living off the fatted cow.

I suppose it isn’t that easy. I suppose that if you want to get anything done, you have to forge alliances, make deals, cater to groups and special interests, and try to please most of the people most of the time. It’ll get you re-elected for one thing. For another, it shows us that even in the senate, one vote doesn’t matter. That really bothers me. Sure, there are independents. Sure, there are those mavericks who generally don’t cast their ballots because the “party” says to vote this way or that. But the majority is supposed to rule. The good of the many has to outweigh the good of the one. You can’t have it both ways. It really sucks if you are the one, but that’s the sacrifice I think Lincoln was talking about when he mentioned the altar of freedom. Compromise means that nobody gets what they really want.

I would have a blast as a senator. Even more so as a President (dare to dream… I haven’t the $$$ to run for either office, and my current job kinda makes it illegal to run.) This would be my platform: (Note to all elected officials: this fits on a single page.)

Domestic Policy:

Article 1. The supreme court determines whether or not laws are in accordance with the constitution. If a supreme court justice or nominee cannot recite from memory the entire document, including changes, then they are fired/not hired.

Article 2. The constitution shall only be changed by a mandate from the masses. The People will vote on changes in a general election. A purely popular vote. And then, the change will only become permanent after a period of eight years, after a second popular vote.

Article 3. The rights guaranteed in the Original Document are not up for interpretation and may not be infringed upon. (You can add to, but not take away)

Article 4. All law-abiding citizens can do as they please, as long as it does not infringe upon the rights of others.

Article 5. Any seditionist or terrorist who is a U.S. citizen shall be stripped of all rights and privileges as a citizen and set adrift at sea, at the furthest point from any life sustaining known land mass, as determined by the U.S. Navy. Their family and progeny will accompany them.

Article 6. All laws (including the tax code) shall be written, in full, on no more than two sheets of paper, typed, single space, 10 pitch, Arial font, in plain language English so that everyone can read them. (English shall be the official language of the US government. Learn to read and speak it as part of your vetting (citizenship) process.

Foreign Policy:

Article 1. Any country that declares war on the United States will receive a visit from an MX Missile, 1 in 10 of which will be loaded with nuclear warheads. The Other 9 will be conventional warheads. Selection of munitions will be completely random. After the capitulation of our enemies, their resources, territories, and wealth become property of the US for a period of 10 years. Don’t make us come back.

Article 2. The UN and EU does not work. The US will no longer support it.

Article 3. We may disagree with other countries, but when called on, you are either with us, or against us. Our foreign policy (and foreign aid and trade) will be driven by this.

Article 4. All diplomatic immunity is repealed. Our envoys and ambassadors shall obey their host nation laws while on foreign soil, and you will obey ours, or go to our jails. You must honor and accept (if you want to do business with us) that we do not recognize any religion based laws.

What about the Issues?

What about abortion, taxes, welfare, social security, gun rights, drug policy, stem cell research, foreign debt, AIDS, Crime, etc?

Okay, since you asked: Abortion. Your body, your choice. You live with it. The gummint will not pay for it, nor for counseling after you do it.

Taxes: Everyone pays the same amount. Not based on a percentage of income (too much along the lines of each according to his needs…) The same dollar value is applied to all Americans over the age of 18.) $5000 per head sounds about right. That’s 1.25 trillion dollars. No exemptions. If we can’t run state and local governments for less than this, we should re-think what we spend the money on.

Welfare: You get it for six months, must submit to drug screening weekly, and must repay it when you get a job (however, it will not be taxable income. It is a loan from the taxpayer.) You will also complete no less than 20 hours (weekly) of community service while receiving benefits.

Social Security: Ends immediately for all persons under the age of 50. That gives you 15 years to start saving. For people between 50 and 65, the new retirement age is 70.

Gun rights. Citizens without criminal records may purchase as many guns as often as like. All guns are available for purchase. This does not apply to cannons and howitzers. Citizens with criminal felony convictions may own guns, but shall be limited to one rifle, one pistol, and one shotgun, which they may only have on their personal property (home defense). They must also submit to drug screening, random searches of their homes, register their weapons with their IDs/Fingerprints/DNA/and pictures. They may posses not more than 50 rounds for each weapon they own (150 rounds total). Felons convicted of violent crime shall never be allowed to own firearms. Ever. All law abiding citizens shall be allowed to carry, open or concealed, any weapon that they deem appropriate, without permit or permission from any local or state government.

Drug policy: What you do in the privacy of your own home is your business. What you do outside your home should have no reasonable guarantee of privacy. If you get stoned and leave your house, you will go to prison for a period of not less than 5 years. If you get stoned and commit a crime, particularly a violent crime, you will be killed by those whom you committed a crime against unless they grant you leniency.

Stem cell research: The argument for or against stem cell research is a morality based argument, and the government shall make no laws regulating or moral or immoral acts. As such, the government shall not fund any research on science of questionable morality.

Foreign Debt: They’re never going to pay us back anyway, so all foreign debts are officially forgiven, and the US savings and Loan is hereby closed. All further foreign aid dollars shall be paid by PayPal accounts set up for each country and donated by the people of the US.

AIDS: The only people who shall receive funding for AIDS treatment are those that contract the disease through other-than-sexual transmission. AIDS research shall continue to be funded, with the overlying goals to be vaccines followed by cures.

Crime: Persons convicted of crimes against other persons shall be punished as juries shall deem appropriate. Judges must be elected by popular vote. All judgments shall be allowed one appeal, unless new or compelling evidence is presented after the first appeal. Capital Crimes will be allowed two appeals, and if the second appeal fails, punishment will occur immediately. Families of victims are encouraged to participate. Crimes against children (beating, sexual, kidnapping, or murder) are capital crimes and punishment will be death by the most horrific and painful manner imaginable, and will be slow and televised.

Any infringement on the rights of others not covered in this platform shall be adjudicated in the lowest common court.

Sure, people may or may not agree with my platform. They have a right not to vote for me or even not to vote. You can call it heavy handed, facist, communist, so right wing it’s almost left, whatever you want. Dear old dad had an amazing gift: He saw everything in terms of black and white, right and wrong. Punishment was swift, but fair.

I should stop taking pain meds before I write this stuff.

Chuck

FOBBITS

It's been a pretty slow day, all things considered.

You know, I start a lot of my posts this way. Maybe I am becoming an adrenaline junkie. I always heard bout them when learning about PTSD, but didn’t quite understand it. Now I can go from dead-tired to wide awake in about 3 seconds and I love the rush and buzz it gives me. Maybe when I get back to the world I can re-adjust, and I hope so, because all I really want to do is take the boy fishing. If I can’t, I’m sure the Army will give me some really good drugs to help me sort it out. Those of you that know me know that I could probably use some CrazyPills™ once in a while anyway.

I've spent $7000 on a new generator for a nearby village, and now I just have to figure out how to get this thing out there.

I have $1000 in my pocket that the Army gave me, but I'm not sure what I am allowed to spend it on. I imagine it's for those little things that I want to do but lack the funds for... Like hey, how about $50 to take that backhoe you're sitting on and dig a hole for me. I'm not sure, but I don't think its beer and hookers money.

Decided not to leave the FOB today. Had a really hard day, I had to one of my soldiers that his mother died of an overdose. He's a really good kid, and he has a really fucked up home life. Dad was drunk when he called for more information. (His parents have been split for 10 years or so, Dad's a drunk and Mom's a junkie.) I'm amazed he turned out as good as he did. He's now en route to home for emergency leave. It's a shame that he has to use his mid-tour leave for this, but I'll be able to send him on pass to Qatar and another one to an R&R place here in Iraq later this year.

I guess it all stacks into the things I hate about this job department.

I really miss seeing my kids. I guess it's a lesser of two evils thing, when I am outside the FOB, I don't have time to think about it, but when I am here all day and see their pictures I miss them more. I especially miss my Daughter, for some reason. Maybe it’s because she's so cute, maybe because she's still so little. I don’t love her more than him, or less than him, it’s just different. I know I am Bubba's hero right now, and I hate that I am away for what is arguably the best time to be a dad with him, but I really miss my little girl. Maybe it's her independence, maybe it's her eyes or her giggle. Maybe it's because she's such a little mirror of the Mrs. Hell, I don't know. I just want to take bubba fishing and camping and play with her.

I'd also like a real beer, but I can wait on that.

I'm exhausted for some reason. I think it's the lack of mental stimulation. The days here are so LONG when I go into "Fobbit" mode. (A Fobbit is like a REMF, except they are a forward-deployed REMF. Never leave the safety of the FOB and exist only to give people problems. I spent about 30 minutes last night explaining the finer points of this to a gate NCOIC who thought it was a good idea to keep my vehicles stopped outside the wire at the gate (where it is lit) because he thought we should ground guide into the FOB. 1. We've never done that, 2. Hummers don't have to be ground guided anywhere on the FOB, 3. He said he was concerned for the safety of his soldiers.

That's about when I lost my mind. 1. The fobbits he was so worried about weren't even wearing eye protection—something we demand of all our soldiers, and a sign that he failed to check their uniforms (so much for the safety of his soldiers); my soldiers were exposed with their backs to the road (bad) (What about the safety of MY soldiers?) 2. He positioned his soldiers at the gate between the M113 that rolls back and forth (as a gate) and a concrete barrier. One brake failure=two squished soldiers. One of his soldiers was riding on the top of his M113 as it moved back and forth, so he could (according to the NCOIC) get driver's training. (The gate is not a driver's training course)

About the time SGM showed up, I was probably only a few minutes away from shooting him. (I was mighty tempted when he told me there was no need to curse at him.) I told him if he ever stopped a patrol at the gate, coming or going, I would personally shoot him and drive over his carcass. You see, there's two times I've had to get in or get out really quickly. The first was when the CSM's truck hit an IED and I was out the gate in 5 minutes from notification; the second was when we were bringing in my best friend and the rest of the wounded from that same incident.

Of course, the gate NCO told the SGM that he wanted to press charges against me for communicating a threat. SGM told him I was right, and that he was lucky that a) I didn't shoot him this time, and b) SGM didn't shoot him himself. I love this place. It is so Un-Army sometimes.

--Chuck

Rest in Peace, Brothers

This is what I've been up to for the last 24 hours. A platoon in my brigade was in a firefight, and the choppers came in to support. We need their eyes more than their guns, and they are invaluable. These guys were supporting the platoon in contact and were shot down. All we knew is that they went down and the general area where we think they crashed. Military buffs would call an attack into that scenario (no idea what the enemy of friendly situation was, not in familiar terrain, very little planning, very little sleep) a very high risk operation. I call it war. You never have all the answers, and seldom have any answers. You do the best you can with what you got.

Within 30 minutes of the report that we had a flyer down, my Panzers we rolling out the gate en route to the crash site. One of my platoons (currently the battalion QRF) was rolling within 10 minutes to the crash site and was the first on the scene.) I did not know the pilots, but I knew their call sign. I worked with them the day before. (see Troops in Contact) It didn’t matter to me that they were outside of my AO. Or that it was close to midnight after a very long day. It didn’t matter to my men either, although most were all roused from their sleep to get rolling. Others were on their “off” shift from guard duty. They knew that they would return from this mission and go right back out to the perimeter, their buddies having covered down on a double shift already. They rose to the challenge, transferred necessary equipment from their M1114’s to the tanks and BFVs, and we hauled ass (There’s no traffic after 2300, and everyone, I mean Everyone, gets the fuck out of a Tank’s way when it is on a mission.)

It took most of the night to get to the crash site, and the pilots didn’t suffer when they died, which is a small thing to be thankful for in all of this. A much larger thing to be thankful for is that at about 0600 we saw some of the shit heads coming out of the palm groves with weapons. After the Apaches on station expended their entire ordinance payload (30mm HEDP and 2.75” HE rockets), we dropped a 500 pound JDAM on the remains, just to be sure. We then helped the IA raid the entire town. I’m not sure what all they found, but they are somewhat less than courteous when searching homes. The average Iraqi would rather the US search a house than the IA, because we tend not to toss an entire china cabinet just to see what’s behind it. We tend not to. Depends on the situation.

Godspeed, brothers. You did not go gentle into that good night.

Coming out of the closet

Relax, I’m not queer.

When I started this blog I decided to keep a little anonymity because from time to time I rant about things that are not necessarily in my lane or could be construed as insubordinate; and I didn’t want it to come back and bite me in the ass. But I now think that it only reduces my credibility to hide behind a mask, and anyone that knows me would recognize the pictures anyway. I’ll not post the names of my soldiers, or ever discuss events that are covered under OPSEC (I wouldn’t do that posting anonymously or otherwise, but I just wanted to clear that up.) That means I will not discuss current or future operations, dates, or anything that the enemy can use against us. So here goes.

I am Charles Ziegenfuss, a Captain (CPT) in the United States Army, currently assigned as the Commander, C Co (Fighting Aces), 2^ND Battalion, 34^TH Armor (Dreadnaughts). My battalion is normally part of the First Brigade, First Infantry Division, (The Big Red One) but we are attached over here to the Third Brigade, Third Infantry Division (Rock of the Marne).

I started out as a Private in the Army way back in 1990, as a cavalry scout in the Third Armored Cavalry Regiment. I was assigned to K troop, 3^RD Squadron, 3^RD Armored Cavalry Regiment, at Fort Bliss, Texas. Later, I was re-assigned to 3^RD Squadron, 17^TH Cavalry (Air Mobile) at Fort Drum, New York (Part of the 10^TH Mountain Division (Light Infantry).

After my first tour in the Army, I got out and went to college, And returned to the Army in 1997 after graduating with a degree in history. ROTC paid the bills, and I made the grades. I was commissioned in 1997 as an Armor Officer (an M1A1 Tanker).

My first duty assignment was to Fort Stewart, GA, as a Tank platoon leader in B co, 3^RD Battalion, 69^TH Armor. I deployed to Kuwait for Operation Desert Thunder in 1998. Later, I would be the Scout Platoon Leader for the same battalion, and then the S3 plans (Operations Officer) for that battalion in Kosovo.

I was the Battalion Maintenance Officer and The Adjutant (S1) in this Battalion prior to assuming command last June.

I am proud of my unit, my country and our mission. And I will not hide.

--Chuck

Troops in Contact

I finally got some sleep.

If you can call four uninterrupted hours a good night’s sleep. My Red platoon was scheduled for an early morning series of raids with my IA counterpart company. (I have a company of Iraqi Army soldiers that we work with to get them to the point where they conduct operations to find terrorists and other bad guys on their own. They are my counterpart company and their soldiers are trained by my soldiers. They are brave, loyal, and (mostly) trusted. They look up to my soldiers and eagerly seek our approval. I take great pride in My IA Company, they are the most effective IA Company in all of Iraq (personal opinion) and they are true believers in the new, democratic Iraq. They don’t care what tribe you are from or who you know, if you are a terrorist, they will hunt you down and kill you. They don’t run, and they risk their lives daily by coming to work. Many have been attacked in their homes just for being in the IA. Their job puts their entire family at risk. And they come to work every day. You have to respect that.)

I decided to let red handle this one on their own (I like to run around sector with my platoons when we have smaller missions, it gets me off the FOB, and I get to evaluate the IA company’s tactical progress.) Red is completely capable of doing this mission on their own, and they were really just there to support the IA. The IA were going after a cell that was in the IED making business. Red was there to “show the flag” as the IA is a little more aggressive when we’re around. A simple early morning daylight raid; what could be easier? They’d be home in time for breakfast.

Nothing is ever easy here. We always have “complications.” Only about 1 in 20 Iraqi civilians (even the terrorists) will fight back when captured. Even then only when cornered. Once you are in the house, they pretty much realize that the jig is up, and they are caught. That’s why we were taken by surprise when one of the shitheads came out from upstairs and shot an IA soldier in the head (he’s currently alive, just missing some grey stuff from his head. (Army medicine is SO much better than they show on M*A*S*H*.) And it was a top-of-forehead to back of neck shot with an AK. Weird.

Well, that sets the wheels in motion. Red calls up troops in contact, My CP wakes me up (ever get that late night phone call that takes you half a minute to figure out what’s going on? I was dressed and out the door in about 2 minutes. Top was already getting our two crews spun up, and my Quick Reaction Force platoon was at the gate. (The platoons trade off QRF weekly, they are on a 15-minute “strip alert.” 15 Minutes from notification, they are rolling out the gate, ready to go do violence.) I launched the QRF, (and guess what, if QRF rolls out to support one of my platoons, you know who is coming with them) and got a further SITREP from Red. Red told me that the guy who shot from upstairs ran downstairs and fired into the house, where 2 of my soldiers were with the IA. One IA wounded, one US wounded, one civilian killed. I called the battalion surgeon and asked if he wanted to roll with me. (The platoons always roll with their own medic, and the QRF always brings along a FLA (a HMMWV platform based ambulance). I didn’t know the extent of the injuries, but with one of my boys down, I wasn’t going to get there and wish I had brought a doctor.

Now, we NEVER roll with less than 4 trucks. Ever. Except when I say so. Even though that decision is above my pay grade. Blue was out, Red was out, I was fresh out of platoons, and 1SG and I were a two-truck patrol, heading out into the great big outdoors at breakneck speeds. You gotta take some risks as a leader. You gotta take more risks than your men, especially when your men are at risk. WWJWD ? Precisely.

The wounds to the soldiers (IA and US) were minor; except for massive head wound Harry. Red already had him enroute to the local hospital. The civilian KIA was a little boy, about 10 years old. He ran out the front door while his Uncle was busy spraying AK in the door. The little boy died in one of my sergeants’ lap while he was returning fire. His uncle had shot him right in the heart in his attempt to kill IA soldiers.

I hate this place.

Uncle Shithead was wounded in the leg and ran off into the palm groves. We gave chase with the IA for over a mile, but he had a good head start on us because Red was securing the house and sorting out casualties before we arrived to carry on the fight.

We followed the blood trail for over a mile, but we lost him in a swamp. I hope he dies out there, far away from his family, and he goes to wherever Allah sends people who murder their family.

Of the 20 people we detained in the raid, 10 tested positive for explosive residue. (Ever watch CSI? We have a test spray kit that will determine if you’ve had contact with explosive residue) We also found IED making materials in the house. Looks like we may have rounded up the better part of an IED Cell and probably save a lot of lives in the process.

But that won’t matter to a little boy any more.

I really miss my son.

--BB

Land Mines and Ass Whoopings

I wrote this in a letter to the Mrs. last February, right after I arrived in country.

I had an interesting day. I went on another patrol, but this one got pretty interesting right off the bat. We were walking through a palm grove—just looking around—and I looked about 3 feet to my right and saw a land mine. It's called a vs1.6—you can see it here:

http://ndmic-cidnm.forces.gc.ca/landmine.asp?lang=e&LandmineID=204.

So I see this mine. And immediately look at my feet. (Not making the connection that if I already stepped on a mine, I'd not have any feet). I pointed it out it to my driver. I said "Hey, isn't that a mine?"

Well, we cordoned off the area and swept for more mines as some of the boys
prepped it for demolition. About 30 minutes later, I'm 50 yards away
talking to one of my platoon sergeants, and I find ANOTHER mine. Same kind, but this one is about 15 feet away, under a piece of cinderblock. It's been positioned near the road we're patrolling on, where a BFV had been sitting a few days ago. Since Americans tend to be lazy and visit the same spot, Haji will put mines there for the next time we come.

Again, I look at my feet before saying "Hey, isn't that a mine?" We blew them both up and went about our business. The weird thing about all this was how normal it all seemed. I didn't get excited, just went about doing my job. I guess it'll all end up as part of my PTSD later.

Lately, life’s been a lot more interesting than the fact that I ate breakfast and took my 1000 a.m. portajon visit.

How was your drive to work?

Top and I were talking about it. He said to look at it like this: At least it makes the day go by fast. One minute you're on a 4-hour patrol, the next thing you know it’s almost dark and you're rolling back to the FOB. At this rate I'll be home in no time.

Believe it or not, a large part of my day involves visiting towns and villages, talking to people and politicians, and generally being curious. The area I am in is pretty rural, mostly date palm groves, citrus orchards, and farms (some really skinny cows) lots of sheep and goats, and of course, the smells that come with them.

As I drive through these villages, little kids come out of the woodwork to stand by the side of the road and wave. Most of the villages in my sector (especially the very poor ones) really like us. I have been invited into homes already to share meals and the Chai Tea (make 1/4 cup of Lipton using about 6 bags of tea, add a tablespoon of sugar. It isn't exactly tasty but it wakes you up! These are homes
that are often single room structures, made of mud bricks and thatched palm roofs. These people truly have NOTHING. Nothing except kids. I was talking to one of the villagers today as I was watched by her 7 kids, ranging from 2-14, and as I looked at the youngest of them, a little girl about my daughter’s age, I saw a dirty face and a big toothy grin. She hid by grandma's Abayya (the black robe) and just kept staring and smiling. I waved and smiled as she ran off to play with
her siblings. She was wearing sandals and a tee shirt, and a 7^th generation hand me down pair of pants. Here I was, standing around wearing my desert uniform, wool socks, coat, body armor, and all my gear, and I was a little chilly. These kids are dressed like we dress in the summer. It's not a matter of acclimation; they simply have no other choice. I just wanted to give that little girl a pair of shoes and a warm smile and tell her that people in America that never met her care about her.

I came over here thinking we should just bomb this place into a parking lot. I now think that as alien as this culture is, it may actually be worth saving, if we can show them that we are all just people who care about each other.

It's amazing the abject poverty these people live in. I figure that if I am going to have to find mines, get shot at, and get blown up by IEDs, I might try to do some good here too. God Knows I'm way low on Karma points.

An hour later, a little kid throws a rock at my truck, it bounces off the gunner’s turret, hits him in the wiley-x’s, shatters the lens ad gives him one hell of a shiner. So much for the shoes. I showed him something else: Love—Parental American Style. I chased him on foot through the town, pulled his pants down in front of all his little buddies, and spanked his bare ass right there on the street. If it’s good enough for my kids, it’s good enough for him.

My dearest Adelle,

I am so very deeply sorry that I cannot be there today. I am so proud of you! You are Two! That's a pretty big step for such a little girl. I know you are a big girl now that you are two, but you will always be MY little girl.

I can't explain in words you will understand why I can't be home for your big day. I don't know if I can explain in words I could understand. Maybe someday I will be able to explain it to you.

Mommy sends me pictures of you a lot and I save all of them. I sometimes cry because I miss you so much. When I look at your pictures it makes me sad because I can't hold you and give you kisses and tickle you and hear you laugh. But it also makes me very happy to see you smile and see how big you are getting and how long your hair is getting and how blue your eyes are. You are really starting to look like mommy and that's good because it means you are pretty. Just
don't be crabby all the time like mommy and you'll do fine. (I love you honey!)

Happy Birthday Sweetie. I'll see you as soon as I can. I love you.

Daddy

Sheikhs and fun with Kids

Pretty Dull day today. Had a meeting with the Sheikh’s Council in my Nahiya (County) about 20 Sheikhs, and the local mayor, and maybe 3 of them I trust. The Head Sheikh, Sheikh Adnan, Looks like a very tan Lee Marvin. There's another one, Sheikh Amur who looks like Father Guido Sarducci from old SNL reruns. The Iraqi Army Major I work with, Major Kareem looks (I swear) just like Eugene Levy from SCTV.

After the meeting that would not end (imagine watching C-Span with a Gaelic voiceover) we had lunch. We call it a "goat grab” They served us broiled goat/lamb and chicken on a big bed of rice, peas, noodles, raisins, almonds and peanuts. You get a stack of Pita bread and tear pieces of the meat off and wrap it into the pita and eat it. All with your right hand only. (They wipe their asses with the left hand, Kind of like we do with lefties during elections.) There were no forks. Not spicy at all, and very tasty. I expect I'll be on the shitter for the next few days.

The Sheikhs all bitch about the same things, they want public works projects in their towns, and we want them to guarantee security and turnover dipshits to us. They balk and say that they can control their people, but people come from other areas to plant IEDs and attack Americans. We say bullshit and tell them we can't pay for the public works until the area is secure. Lather, Rinse, and Repeat. Third Verse, same as the first. I imagine that this will go on for a year or so.

Sheikh Adnan is pretty likeable, and seems to be a pretty honest broker. I will work with him offline (one on one) to get things done. He told me yesterday that sometimes he will have to say things to me in front of the other Sheikhs that he does not necessarily back. I understand that he has to do it to save face. I also told him in no uncertain terms that I didn't really care what he said to me in front of the other Sheikhs, as long as we remain respectful to each other. I told him
that if he disrespects me, I will drag him through the streets in cuffs and put him in a very dark place. It seemed weird to say that to a 50 year old man, but he smiled and told me that he was glad to see that I had backbone... and that there are very few people who would ever say that to his face and he respects me for it. I believe him.

He asked me is I was a prince or a Sheikh in America because I had so many tanks and soldiers. I didn't want to tell him the truth, because it would actually hurt my position with him, so I told him that America does not have Sheikhs or princes, but I was personally commissioned by the President of the United States and placed in command of the company under his authority. (This, of course, is true, but not exactly forthcoming). He was Very Impressed by that.

As Top and I walked through some towns today, a couple teenage boys started cussing at us in Klingon. We didn't have a clue what they were saying. So I started insulting them back. I got creative, because they all know American cuss words. "Very funny, Meatstick. You know, my son has more clothes in his sock drawer than you've ever owned in your life." Nice Donkey. My son has a bike, a tricycle, and a wagon that he doesn't even play with 6 months out of the year. Keep laughing. This is only the second time we've invaded your sorry-ass country. How many Iraqis do you think are in America right now that don't drive cabs or work in 7-11's?

This went on for about 10 minutes until Top and I got bored with it.
It's weird what passes for amusement in these parts.

Nationbuilding and Why Iraq is worth it

Lots of people (okay, lefty assholes) keep asking why we are here. Funny thing is, none of my soldiers have asked that since we got here. Now, a few raised their doubts before we came, and we explained our mission, etc. to them and they understood. But if you look back to hurricane Andrew, or any other disaster that’s happened within our borders (i.e. last season’s Big Snow/Flood/Forrest Fire) you’ll see some guys in funny green suits running around helping out. It’s one of the fibers in our common thread.

Sure, we train to kill. We train to close with and destroy our enemies using firepower, maneuver, and shock effect. We don’t train on how to build schools or put out fires or shovel snow. As far as floods go, anyone can fill a sandbag, but how many organizations can coordinate the logistical requirements to move hundreds or even thousands of people to a new area until it is safe to go home? If your answer is the red cross, who do you think they call? And is there any other organization that has the assets to do it?

(A side note here… Everyone thinks that VP Cheney, et al, is evil because he made so much money through Halliburton/Kellogg, Brown & Root. (Here we just call it KBR). This is the company that provided the military logistical support through Bosnia, Macedonia, Kosovo, and now in Iraq. Most of their employees are former military (for skilled labor) and Third-Country Nationals (mostly Indian/Sri-Lankan/Pakistani or any other nationality that drives cabs in the U.S.) Why would the same Army that fought and won in Desert Storm need to hire logisticians for the next war? Why couldn’t the military support itself? What Changed between Desert Storm and Bosnia?

The Presidency, for one. We fired the winner of that war and replaced him with the Jackass that lost Somalia, spent a Decade in Bosnia (He originally promised we’d be home by Christmas the same year (1995). We just left this year (Can you say Quagmire?)) And took us to Kosovo as well. (Remember when his intelligence service had our stealth bombers drop precision GPS guided munitions on the Frickin’ Chinese Embassy?)

The military also changed. Uncle Bill drastically reduced the size of the military. It takes a village to raise a child? Maybe. But it definitely takes the right people with the right equipment to feed/equip/move/train/and support a soldier. The military got smaller. We pushed the loggies into the Reserve and National Guard; their equipment deteriorated and wasn’t replaced, we deactivated entire divisions (and most of the logistical support is at the division level). VP Cheney and the Boys saw this and formed a company (Kellogg, Brown and Root) and financed it with their own money, to be able to provide worldwide logistical support to US forces around the globe.

They saw an unfulfilled need and they figured out a way to tailor an organization that would be able to respond to the gummints call when the gummint said “Oh shit, we cut too far back.” Its pure capitalism and I love it. Sure it’s expensive. Do you know what we pay these guys when we’re not deployed? Zero. But when we need them, we hire them. And they provide. During Desert Shield, soldiers were rationed food and water because we had to set up supply lines to get the goods to the soldiers. I went to dinner tonight and had a choice between Braised Beef, Ham, Cheeseburgers, Corndogs, Egg rolls, and Spaghetti. I chose a Strawberry soda and a Gatorade to drink. (I hate drinking water, fish pee in it). I could eat as much as I wanted. I seldom eat MREs, unless I know I won’t be back to the base camp for a couple days (yes, they’re that bad). The point is, stop bitching about KBR. Either the men deserve the best or they don’t. Name ONE OTHER COMPANY that could provide like KBR does. I’m sure the Army would love you. Then they could start a bidding war and drive the cost down. But I bet you can’t name even one.

Where was I? Oh yeah. Soldiers and helping. Nobody asks why over here. We have a job to do. Terrorists attack us, we kill them. They attack the Iraqi Army or Police, we help them kill the terrorists. (Stop calling them insurgents. Insurgents are Members of a political party who rebel against established leadership. A Terrorist is a label for one who personally is involved in an act of terrorism. Terrorist tactics may also be used by dissident groups or other non-state actors to achieve political ends or for purposes of extortion. Terrorism: The unlawful use or threatened use of force or violence against people or property to coerce or intimidate governments or societies, often to achieve political, religious, or ideological objectives. It may be splitting hairs, but I can see the difference.

The bottom line is that we see that we are helping these folks and most, if not all of us, want to help them. It doesn’t matter that they’re not American. It doesn’t matter that they look different, live different, or believe in a different God. (Or form thereof, if it’s the same god, after all.) They are in need, we fill that need.

So what does this have to do with Nation building and Why Iraq is worth it? We could find poor, starving, huddled masses in just about any state in the union. Why is it so important to be here in Iraq rebuilding their country into a democracy? I’ll give you five reasons: Syria, Jordan, Saudi, Iran, and Kuwait. These countries all border Iraq. They are all ruled by theocratic despots, tyrants, and other unseemly characters. We chose (arguably) the worst one in the Middle East and hunted him down, killed his children, and put him in the news in his underpants. We showed them that Americans have the power to do it to them, and more importantly, the will to do it.

We destabilized the entire region. Foreign Fighters are coming into Iraq to attack us. Why? Why do their governments support terrorists (covertly) and overtly pressure us to leave? What would they gain by a having a neighbor who is oil rich but has no infrastructure to pump out the oil?

Well, in the finest of Arab traditions, they could always invade and seize the oil fields (see Iraqi invasion of Kuwait, Circa 1990). Or they could help their Muslim brothers rebuild their country. Or they could even accept them into their countries as refugees (Just like the Palestinians!)

So what are we doing here? Democracy is the key. People here (including [gasp!] WOMEN!) Voted in the last election. What would a democratic, oil-rich, America Loving country do to the demographic in the Middle East? Do you think it could inspire its neighboring countries to form democracies? (Like Mexico and Canada did after we showed them how cool it was to choose-your-own-adventure in life?) Do you think it could inspire people to even start to think that maybe the Imams and Muktars and Ayatollahs might be good at preaching but that maybe the Prophet should have included a chapter or two on Government and Economy in his teachings? Do you think that these other governments might see this as a threat to their power over their subjects, especially if their subjects see just how good freedom can be?

Can you imagine what would happen to Islamic fundamentalism if democracy spread from nation to nation? Democratic societies tend to force people to think for themselves. (Okay, the loony left is excluded.) Thinking for yourself leads to things like freedom. It’s a self-licking ice cream come. One feeds the other. Fundamental Anything tends to be bad, or at least weird. Didja ever see those folks in West Virginia who board themselves up in church and dance with snakes? That’s Fundamentalism for ya. We tend to use fundamental and radical in the same breath when it comes to islam. Believe it or not (and I still think it’s the religion of Peas, (not a spelling error)) they have Easter and Christmas Muslims just like we all get dressed up twice a year to go to church in the states. I don’t see thousands of asses up in the air five times a day everywhere I go here. Sure, they are a more religious bunch, but then their access to Cable TV and the Internet is pretty limited. Look how much more religious we, as a nation, were back when leave it to beaver was a contemporary TV program.

Man, I gotta lay off the caffeine; I can’t stick to a single tangent here.

Getting back to (de)stabilizing the middle east. So all the people see the New Iraq as a place to breathe free. And the DickTaters get ousted, and the Green robe of Islam they hide behind gets pulled away, and people start really reading their Qu’ran (Here we go again—Most Arabs learn to read and write by memorization. These folks have amazing memories and memorization skills. But the part they lack, almost to a man, is the ability to say “So what does it all mean?” Their analytical skills are incredibly weak. So sure, they know their Qu’ran. But they don’t have a depth of understanding of it. So they turn to their religious leaders to give it meaning. Same thing with our priests and pastors, except for the most part we’re just too lazy to try to figure out what JC and the Boys were trying to say, and why, and in what context that applies to us. Sit, Kneel, Stand, Sing, eat the wafer, drink the wine, genuflect, shake hands, compliment the pastor, get in the car, and get to the game! Sound like church to anyone?

Sixteen hundred fifty-five words and I haven’t gotten to the point. If democracy and capitalism works here, and spreads, then Islamofacism will fade. As people become free to choose and are no longer bound to follow a religion dictated by their governments they will become more open to different interpretations of the same teachings. (See Baptists, Mormons, Anglicans, Episcopalians, Methodists etc.) As capitalism grows and people gain greater buying power through increased income, they are much more likely to follow leisure pursuits. This leaves less time to dwell on why the US is so evil, and more time to figure out how to get under Amy’s Burka.

It’s (in a way) like the reverse of the domino effect espoused by Kissinger and others 40 years ago. Except communism doesn’t work, and so far, I can’t think of a capitalist democracy that is worth a damn failing.

I think that the reason the Lefties can’t figure this is that they can’t think strategically. They think tactically. It’s a way we differentiate in the military. Tactical solutions affect the here and now. He does this, I do that, the end result is this. Strategic solutions go much further into second and third order effects. Global impact vs. Local impact.

I may be looking at a logical conclusion where there was no logical solution when we started this great adventure, but it seems to make sense to me. Maybe POTUS had this in mind all along. Or maybe he’s a backwoods Texas bumpkin with a bone to pick with the guy who tried to kill daddy. Either way, we have a tremendous opportunity here to make the world a better place through our actions. Something the UN has yet to do. Its worth a shot. Does anyone have a better idea?