After
about five years of routine weekend training which consists of rifle range,
swim qualification, fire and maneuver practices, and patrolling, my unit
was finally mobilized to go to Iraq.
I really
was not scared of dying, but I did figure I would lose a leg or, God forbid,
an arm. One guy in our company shot himself in the leg in order to
not go. That kid got six months jail time and a bad conduct discharge. One guy said he was a conscious objector, and a few people had "family
problems" preventing them from coming with us.
I was
like, cool, let's leave the trash behind and go with guys who actually
want to be there.
I landed
in Iraq on 4/1/2003. I have to admit, flying into a war zone is the
scariest thing I have ever done in my life -- and I am a black kid from
the projects of Brooklyn who had already seen people shot and killed. It is just different when you have a whole army dug in preparing to shoot
you.
The thing that I first noticed
in Iraq was the machine gun shells that were freshly lying in front of
our
camp ground. We wondered who had just fought here and where had they
gone? And more importantly, will they come back?
After a few days on the outskirts
of
the southern city of Nasiriyah our commanders sent us in to secure the city. Luckily for us, the
Marine expeditionary force which was already in the city had pretty much
done the job for us, so we had no bad guys to kill and none looking to
kill us.
My platoon moved into a former
government building. For the next five months our routine was two
patrols during the day and two in the evening. When we were not on
patrol, we were guarding our building or just hanging out watching TV,
playing cards, jerking off to porn, etc.
We had
a lot of fun with the Iraq people, especially the kids. They loved
us. The men are a little weird and very gay. I personally was not cool
with grown ass men blowing me kisses or giving me flowers. The only
women we saw were the old and fat ones. The young ones are locked
up in the house.
Unlike the
Vietnam guys, there was no pussy for us in this
war. We were
actually disappointed about that. What is the point of conquering
a country without the spoils of war?
The only
pussy that was available to us was the female soldiers. Unfortunately
for us, we had no females attached to our unit. The guys in the army
and the air force got all the pussy.
We left
Iraq in July of 2003, and not a day too soon. At the time we left
is when the war started to get worse with the insurgency and IED's. We really felt for the guys in Baghdad because they were catching hell.
After
we left Iraq, we went back to Kuwait for a couple of weeks and then back
to New York. Back home we got a parade and a family day party. My parents are assholes, so they don't even show up. That's cool. I was just happy to get back to good ole USA!
Two months
later, I am watching the news and the building that my platoon stayed in
for five months was attacked by a suicide bomber. The Italian troops
who replaced us were in the compound. Twenty-six of them died and
over 100 were wounded. If they had not replaced us, I would have
been in the building and would most likely be dead.
Fast forward
to this past Tuesday. I am no longer in the corps, but I still keep
in contact with my boys. My boy called me up and told me they asked
for volunteers to go back to Iraq. Sixty guys decided to volunteer
for another year-long deployment. This is not the choice I would
have personally made, but it does say a lot about the commitment that out
troops have to the cause.
Actually,
most of those guys are disappointed that they didn't get a chance to use
their weapon the first time around and want to get a "confirmed kill." I can understand where they are coming from. I never shot my weapon,
and
however sadistic this might sound, I do wish I got to kill somebody.
That being
said you, couldn't pay me enough to go back to the "SWA" (Southwest Asia).
You guys that are thinking
about joining the military, I say go for it and join the infantry. You will definitely go to war and will most likely get to shoot and kill
things. You will meet all kinds of cool, and not so cool, people
from all over the country. You won't learn any relevant skills for
when you get out, but if you join at 18 and get out at 22, you can always
go back to college.
Most people in this country
are weak. After a tour with a Marine unit in Iraq, or even in Afghanistan,
you
will be a cold-hearted killer with no fear in the world. You will
also realize how great America is, how much opportunity this country provides.
Just don't get killed. I have a friend who was shot in the head, and another who is a double amputee. I guess that is the price one pays to be "The few, the proud, the..."
The author
adds: "I am not going to give you my name or photo. I just started
my career with a federal govt agency. I have a bright future and
need not the attention." |