Bad Day

This was the start of a bad day. Probably the worst while I was in Afghanistan. The explosion pictured in actually from a MCLIC (mine clearing line charge) so we were expecting it. The picture can't show a few things, though, that are crucial to the story.

First, we were leaving out of the SW gate of FOB Jackson to clear the treeline about 200 meters south of the base in hopes that we could minimize Taliban disruption of the election, which was a day or two after this operation. This was basically a situation where we marched out of the gate in order to draw fire and set off IEDs so Afghans wouldn't have to worry as much about violence if they decided to vote - the joys of counterinsurgency . . .

Second, a sniper had been shooting at us for a while that morning. A bunch of us were sitting around waiting to leave and a big puff of dust kicked up about five meters away with a big SNAP! Everyone scrambled for cover, hoping the bastard wouldn't get lucky.

Third, this picture was taken about four hours after we were supposed to leave. Originally the first element was crossing the LOD at 0600, but it ended up being 0930 or so before anyone stepped off. Something about problems with the MCLICs or whatever. No one ever passed the word.

Fourth, the rest of the day was brutal. It was hot as all get-out. We were ambushed outside of a compound several hundred meters south of the FOB. This was the first and only time in my deployment where we were unable to achieve fire superiority - truly scary. I can't imagine what war was like before we were better than everyone else.

Fifth, it was effing hot. So hot that by 1100 I was drenched in sweat and was sucking water like it was going out of style. Still, it was better than a few months later when I'm pretty sure I spent four weeks without actually feeling my hands. Whatever. 

What was it all for?

I don't know how many of you (who reads my blog anyway?) have seen this video but I just had the pleasure last night. The best way to hear what people think is Facebook right now, so I left it up there all night and was not disappointed this morning with over ten comments from various people. I don't think a single one of them captured what is so disturbing to me about this video.

For starters, I have to give this girl credit. At least she isn't posting anonymous comments somewhere. She has her position, however crude and uniformed, and puts it out there for everyone to hear. That's something, even if she speaks with "the valor of ignorance."

Two things bother me about this (well, that's not true but I'm focusing on these two). One is how many other people I know share her convictions but lack the integrity to say so. What does "Support the Troops" mean to someone who has never served and has no connection to the military community? They probably think, much like this girl, that a bunch of stupid minorities and farm boys are signing up because they either have no job prospects or are seized by unconquerable bloodlust. In their paternalism, these people believe they need to help these poor people in the military understand what they are doing so they can stop being a part of the war machine. The warped view of military life held by so many of these people simmers below a politically correct layer of BS.

The complement to the first issue is how unlikely this girl is to ever change her mind. People with no exposure to the military are not going to magically start meeting and talking with veterans or active duty servicemembers. And even if they did, the exposure would never last long enough for them to move past the "don't you realize how terrible the military is?" phase to the "hmm, I guess I don't really know much about the military" phase. No, instead they will sit with others who agree with them, convinced of their own superiority, and die thinking the same thing.

So why do we fight for such people? Why am I and all the other veterans the ones expected to be so much more mature and turn the other cheek? Because she's young? We're young. Because she obviously has no experience? She never will. Because it's her right? I also have rights of self-expression. Because we should tolerate diversity of opinion? She doesn't have an opinion - she has a belief. A belief is a conviction held without evidence, and that is precisely what this rant represents.

Right now 3/7 is back in Sangin. I hope the next time one of their 19 year-old LCpls rotates back to FOB Jackson he doesn't go online and find something like this video. We all deserve better. America deserves better.

When Things First Got Hot (and Chilly)

This picture reminds me a lot of our team's early days in Sangin. It was taken during one of my first operations in country, or at least I think it was . . . anyway, it was mid to late September. Big Daddy, Creole, Mumbles, Doc, and I had been attached to India Company, 3rd Battalion, 7th Marines for a clearing operation. The LT was butting his head up against a wall trying to get us deployed the way he wanted, but the word from higher was to get CAG "surged" (everyone loved that phrase back then) to India Company, who was the focus of effort. So the team was split up, and each of us ended up with a different element, while LT and Dominicano stayed at the main base and Doc helped out at the Aid Station.

It was a relatively uneventful start to a difficult day. The first squad LDed pretty early in the morning but by the time I stepped off with the third squad it was already ridiculously hot. Probably 100 degrees, plus all that damn gear. Sweating our way into orchards, across mud walls, rushing through danger areas - it was a long, grueling start. I amused myself during breaks with the EOD Tech with whom I'd made fast friends. Guys like him have to be a little crazy and the one thing constant across 3/7, 1st Recon, and 3/5 was how quickly I was able to make friends with EOD. They are a strange bunch. We eventually joined up with the second squad at a large compound where a family claimed their father was working in the District Center. First squad was pushed out clearing the next sector of the route, so we holed up at the compound while they swept for IEDs. It was a pretty standard scene: Marines bored as hell, kids chucking rocks at their goats and (if they also got bored) each other, women hiding in one of rooms, and me trying to figure out how the hell I could get some useful information for the Platoon Sergeant or maybe even the LT. The father returned, claimed he was an Engineer and sympathetic to the government and the Marines even though he was Ishaqzai. Big Surprise - he only had twenty-odd Marines armed to the teeth waiting for him when he got home. What else was he going to say?

We had a particularly awful terp, so I didn't get very far but the forward element was moving so slowly it really didn't matter. A few hours later we realized there wasn't going to be any further movement before it got dark so the Platoon Commander ordered first squad to RTB. On the way back their Combat Camera was shot in the side above his side SAPI plate. Creole was there, and helped bring him back to the compound where the rest of us were staying. Leatherneck (the main camp) spun up the MEDEVAC bird and sent it on its way, but it took over a half-hour. The Corpsman we had with us brought the guy back three times before the chopper touched down.

He died on the return flight.

Funny, this picture is actually from the next morning. I remember it because it was so cold on radio watch (I think I had 0200-0400) and I had only packed out my poncho liner. Solution? Burn a bunch of plastic from MREs I had eaten, staying close enough to get some heat but not so close that I was hacking constantly. It's a difficult balance.