One Hundred Eighty Two Days In Afghanistan
Memoirs Of A United States Marine
Ryan John Manganiello
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One Hundred Eighty Two Days In Afghanistan
Memoirs Of A United States Marine
Copyright © 2009 By Ryan John Manganiello
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One Hundred Eighty Two Days In Afghanistan
Memoirs Of A United States Marine
Ryan John Manganiello
Day 1
2009-4-26
Hello Mother, I hope all is well, and wish I was done with this mystery deployment already. We arrived in Afghanistan today, and as expected, it was extremely hot. They have us dwelling in tents without climate control, so as I’m sure you can imagine, it’s pretty hot during the day. It is difficult to eat out here as well, due to the taste and the heat. It could always be worse, but I have the fact that I shall be done with it all very soon. I bet it’s easy for the ignorant, those who believe we are really out here making a difference. These people have fought for thousands of years, why does anyone believe we can end it. I could understand fighting for a commodity, or something that will benefit us all. No one cares about us, not even the people in charge. The individuals responsible for sending us here, and the majority of the poor, of which the middle class support via taxes, sit idly by, while we fight this senseless war. Maybe the world will change because of what we’re attempting to do. Maybe, one can hope. I’ve spent most of my time writing, reading, and sleeping. They said the exchange is low on supplies, but I’ll make my way down there tomorrow to see for myself. I long for the freedom I so deserve, and look forward to the day I get out of the Marine Corps with unfathomable joy, the day of which will mark the first day of the rest of my life.
Day 2
2009-4-27
I now have something to complain about, and I knew it wouldn’t take long. This retarded Heavy that is attached to us, I say attached because I would never accept the fact that he is actually supposed to be in charge of us, wants us to get haircuts today. None of us have the means to pay for them. Everything else went well today, and I have already made two buddies here who seem to possess the potential to become actual friends. I attended a rules of engagement class this morning, and the instructor really didn’t know what he was attempting to teach. I wake up three hours before everyone else every day to take a shower and take as long as I want to prepare for the day without anyone else around to disturb me. They have hot water here! It doesn’t take much to make, and keep me happy in a combat zone, but hot water and laundry service are a must. They say we may not have either soon, so I’ll be taking full advantage of these amenities for as long as I can. I figured out a system to combat the heat during the middle of the day, which is to sleep through it. The only problem now is the flies. I’m sure over time I’ll get use to them as well. They haven’t even issued us ammunition yet, which is extremely peculiar. When I was in Iraq, they issued us our ammunition in Kuwait, which isn’t a combat zone, so that we were able to fly into a combat zone equipped with ammunition. I wish the Marine Corps was the way it’s portrayed to be in the story books, for that was the Marine Corps I fell in Love with.
Day 3
2009-4-28
My old family of Marines, attached to Marine Wing Support Squadron Three Seventy One is here. I went over to their tent area today to say hello. I spoke to a few of my good friends, and they told me that they talk about what it would have been like, if I would have deployed with them. I’ve really missed them, and was very happy to see them again. I was told today that I will be heading out in two days to conduct a security patrol with Combat Logistics Battalion Three. It will be my first mission outside the safe zone here in Afghanistan, and I’m rather excited. I was selected to go as a representative for our company, and will be monitoring and evaluating their standard operating procedures. Their Intelligence Officer briefed us on the current status of the area of operation, where they have been conducting missions. I couldn’t fathom how much of this country the Taliban still has under control; considering the fact that we have been operating in this country way longer than we have been in Iraq. Geographically, they have large portions of this country still under control. How is this possible? I still don’t know why we’re here, and why so much money and effort goes into funding a conflict that realistically will never end. We go back and forth on their major roads; locating, detonating, or being struck by improvised explosive devices, for what? I feel rage; rage fueled by the notion of being here to simply destroy an enemy of which has no end. There will always be those who have nothing better to do than to seek out and murder those who want to believe in whatever it is they choose to believe. This rage brings forth a reason, a reason that I concocted. That reason is to kill or be killed. We possess the intelligence, wisdom, skills, and technology to annihilate those who threaten our right to live, however we choose. I suppose we have an obligation to aid those who don’t.
Day 4
2009-4-29
Many have claimed that the ability to refrain from saying whatever comes to mind is nonexistent when it pertains to me. I believe this conclusion is drawn from the fact that, if an ignorant act has, or is about to transpire, I would state my reason, and justify as to why such an act is absolutely ridiculous in nature, no matter the person enacting it. It’s amazing I made it this long with very few incidents, and hope that I’m not placed in a situation where I will be forced to make sense of a situation, and be reprimanded for doing so. I won’t, nor will I ever, subject myself to thinking within any assigned thought parameter. The military has a rank structure obviously, and each rank represents a box, of which they expect you to think within. As the common expression goes, think outside the box, as opposed to in it to figure out a solution. I for one will never limit my mind for any reason. My thought capabilities are infinite, hence another reason why I must get out, to exist in a Universe of which has no limits. I have a brief today, which should entail all the information I will need to properly prepare for my upcoming mission. The area in which I will be operating in is heavily patrolled by Taliban forces. Fortunately, they have yet to possess enough intestinal fortitude to attack a heavily armed convoy. This country is awesome and way better than Iraq when it pertains to our use of force. They dropped a five hundred pound bunker busting bomb on four ragheads who were identified by an aerial robot, planting improvised explosive devices. I love it!!! More writing, reading, eating, and sleeping; trying to adapt to the heat is difficult. I hope it becomes easier, considering that it usually gets around one hundred and fifty degrees during the summer months. I just returned from my mission brief, and will be heading out at 0300. We will be dropping off some gear that belongs to the British, and staying the night with them. The next morning we will head east to pick up nineteen Marines, who will be retrograding with us for the remainder of our mission. We will be staying the night there as well, and will make our way back to Leatherneck the following morning. It should be a three day mission. We shall see... The Taliban should be busy harvesting the poppy fields and turning the poppy into opium, of which they will later sell, in order to fund their operations against us.
Day 5
2009-4-30
I woke up 0100, and began preparing for my mission. I think I took a forty five minute shower, because I knew it may be a while before I would be able to enjoy another one. I was the first one to arrive, everyone else didn’t seem to care when they showed up… We had a quick roll call and boarded our vehicles. Today was the first day I had ever spent outside the safe zone in a ground vehicle. The other time was in a helicopter, when a pilot landed outside Ramadi in Iraq for an unknown reason. The first mission lasted twelve hours, which we spent driving to a British outpost. Fortunately, we didn’t encounter any Taliban forces, but did blow up one of their improvised explosive devices. I don’t think anyone with any sense, would have the stuff required personally to attack us in an infantry style manner, considering the fact that we had a Cobra Gunship helicopter escorting us for a considerable amount of time during our drive. Imagine an Angel, a Guardian Angel of Death, protecting you everywhere you go. That is what it felt like, just in case you were wondering. We also had a Scan Eagle flying above our position for the entire duration of our first mission. Technologically, no one is more advanced than us. Our equipment is generations ahead of all our coalition counterparts, so as I’m sure you can imagine we’re eons ahead of our enemies here in Afghanistan. I’ve done so much more than most do in their entire lives, but one dream of mine, is to request support fire from a Naval Gunship. I think it would be an orgasmic experience, one that I would never forget. One can hope… I’ve never felt dirtier than I do right now. Imagine cleaning your glasses and not even a minute later, all you see is dust. The dust out here is unlike any other; similar to Iraq, but much finer. Every crevice, every ledge, every portion of your body is covered in it. When you get a chance to blow your nose and clean your ears, all that comes out is a massive amount of dirt. I can only imagine what it does to our lungs. Combine that with the excruciating heat, and the massive weight of all the gear we’re required to wear. I cleaned my weapon yesterday afternoon, and now it’s absolutely covered in dirt. I can’t wait to be done with it all, to have the ability to stay clean for as long as I desire. In two days, I should be able to take a shower.
Day 6
2009-5-01
This morning I awoke in the cold, I put on a sweatshirt and covered my whole body and face with my blanket. I woke up two times to piss, and the area you piss in is a good eighth of a mile walk. The urinal is a huge tube, buried half way into the ground. We were supposed to leave this area at 0800 to complete the rest of our mission. The British did us a favor by clearing a very dangerous path from here to Musa Qala. It is one of the most dangerous areas in Afghanistan. We are grateful that the British would do such a thing. We’re carrying their mail and parts for their trucks, so I’m sure they consider it precious cargo. Musa Qala is another British occupied base, and it is supposed to be bigger and more luxurious than this one. I hope we leave soon, because it’s starting to get really hot. The British Prime Minister will be there, so I’m sure they won’t want us there for long, which is fine with me. I hope the Brits helping us are well. Last report I received pertained to them encountering an improvised explosive device. May God protect them and us, as we journey through Hell to pick up our Brothers, and drop off their supplies. We finally made it, but unfortunately one of our vehicles was struck by an improvised explosive device during our movement. Two Marines were injured; one suffered a broken arm, the other a broken leg. Explosive Ordnance Disposal technicians claimed that if they were riding in a standard military vehicle, every occupant within the vehicle would have been killed. The latest report said the two injured Marines are currently at the hospital, and are in stable condition. I was just having a conversation with one of the Marines who was injured, a Marine who stared Death in the eyes today. This was their second to last mission before departing Afghanistan. The wheels and the back side of the vehicle were severely damaged. Musa Qala is pretty nice. The British have what appears to be a fortified castle as their Command and Control Center. It’s hard to believe that plant life can grow in a place that so closely resembles Hell... They have parked literally on the border that separates us from the Taliban. When it’s your time, it’s your time I suppose. You stare Death in the face on a daily basis out here, so I suppose I have grown accustomed to it. We just made it through one of the most dangerous parts of Afghanistan with two casualties, and pray that we do better on the return trip.
Day 7
2009-5-02
Day two without a shower, and I feel disgusting. War accommodates no one, and makes no promises, so I’ll learn to adapt. I woke up this morning to the sound of a rooster that belonged to an Afghan local. I explored Musa Qala more thoroughly today, and came to the realization that the British settle for a mediocre standard of living. When Americans take over a location, they start building immediately, and try to emulate our Mother country as much as possible. We have hot showers, clean restrooms, awesome chow halls, internet, and the list goes on. We are a nation, for the most part, who would not settle for anything but the best; although we do have our weak, those who want it all, but won’t work at all to achieve it. We met the locals, and they had a puppy chained up in their compound. I must have been the first person to show the little guy any type of affection, because he peed himself when I started petting him. The local children threw their sling shots over the fence line, so that we could shoot a few rocks to pass the time. I had my picture taken with the hottest British girl on the installation. She was a pretty little thing, and stammered so much it was hard to comprehend exactly what she was saying. The sand storm today was ridiculous. Nothing stays clean, and anyone who knows anything about me, knows that I absolutely despise being dirty. Again, war is unconditional, and cares for no one’s particular preferences. We finally finished fixing and preparing our vehicles for the journey back to the first British base we camped at; hopefully without incident this time. May God protect us. I put my lucky green bandana on and boarded my vehicle. Halfway there, my vehicle went down for mechanical problems, and I was forced to find a new vehicle to ride in. I was placed in a seven ton truck with no air conditioning, full of bags, and two other people. Go sit in a sauna for three hours with sixty pounds of clothes on, cramped next to two other people, and then you’ll know what I felt like. Three quarters of the way there, we encountered an improvised explosive device. The Explosive Ordnance Disposal technicians blew it up. The explosion was awesome. We didn’t encounter any other Taliban activity for the duration of our trip. I was so excited to finally get out of the hot box I was unfortunately subjected to. Hopefully my truck is ready tomorrow, or else I’ll be subjected to one hell of a horrible experience on our way back to Camp Leatherneck.
Day 8
2009-5-03
I woke up at 0200 to the worst wind and sand storm I’ve ever experienced. At first I tried to ride it out, but after almost losing my favorite blanket and being hit by a metal pole, I decided that it would be wise to seek out proper shelter. I definitely would have chased down my blanket, even if I had to jump over the wire, into Taliban Central to retrieve it. I found an empty truck to sleep in, and threw all my gear in it. We woke up early, so that we could depart at day break. The Cobra Pilot’s weren’t as brave as the ones from yesterday, but at least they were there. Before we made it through the first danger zone, we encountered three improvised explosive devices. Thank God no one was injured. The Explosive Ordnance Disposal technicians blew all three in place, with three separate command detonations. We had a few possible Taliban encounters during our movement back to Leatherneck, but none were relevant to the remainder of our movement. The trip back was ridiculously long, and not showering for three whole days made it even worse. We left at 0530, and finally made it back at 1900. All the Marines were excited to see me, and inquired as to how my four day mission was. I’m going out again in two days, and I’d much rather be out there, than in here with all the Heavys.
Day 9
2009-5-04
Today was retarded for the most part, and becoming more garrison as the days go on. How does getting a haircut make you a better Marine in combat? I don’t know, but apparently the Heavys, who have never seen or experienced combat do. Personal appearance doesn’t apply in combat, only personal comfort does! I can’t wait until it’s finally over, and when I’ll be able to do whatever it is I choose to do. I have some more bullshit to pass, which just made me hate this place even more. We’re not allowed to wear shower shoes to the shower, or to the bathroom. How do people even think of rules this retarded? Do they intentionally make them up to force people to inquire as to whether or not they’re actually serious? We go outside the safe zone on a weekly basis, for long periods of time to fight the most lethal opposition force on the planet, but we’re not allowed to choose what we want to wear on our own two feet? They tried having me attend some classes, and after realizing from the very beginning that the instructor teaching the classes was a complete idiot, I decided to leave with another Marine of mine. My friend just brought up an important point. Reverse psychology is what is going on here. The Heavys want us to be miserable, so that we desire to go out and fight. We crave the danger to avoid the misery. I choose danger.
Day 10
2009-5-05
As usual, I woke up around three hours prior to everyone else, and grabbed my stuff to prepare for my morning shower. I placed my clothes in the normal location, and began taking my shower. Halfway into my shower, the water line broke, and soaked all of my clean clothes. After laughing about what just occurred, I found some dry clean clothes to wear, and was ready for the day. I woke up Boulevard and Kenneth for chow, and we had an exciting time going, during, and coming back from the chow hall. Different people taught classes today. All the Marines were asking why I wasn’t teaching all the classes, and really wanted me to. This command is getting more ridiculous by the day. They want us to wear glow straps in a mother fucking combat zone. Did I miss something? Their reasoning is to prevent us from getting hit by a vehicle. If you get hit by a vehicle traveling at ten miles an hour, you deserve to get hit! I stated my case to the Company Officer during our group bitch session, and convinced him to allow us to utilize flashlights instead.
Day 11
2009-5-06
I woke up at 0400 today, and certainly had a better morning, as opposed to yesterday. My clothes weren’t wet and the shower didn’t malfunction. I was scheduled to calibrate my weapon today on the range at 0800, but it was actually at 1200. Some dumb ass Heavy read the letter of instruction incorrectly, and we are now going during the hottest part of the day, which makes absolutely no sense. Later on, it was cancelled for the day completely, and was replaced by a mandatory mine sweeping course. I was the only one in the company who was exempt, due to the fact that I’ve been outside the safe zone already. I swear it is as if they mess up on purpose, because it’s hard to believe that people who are in positions to make decisions are so incredibly stupid. Hopefully I will shoot my weapon soon, so I can finally calibrate it correctly.
Day 12
2009-5-07
I’ve always grown a combat mustache whenever I’m in a field status, or in a combat zone, and just like every other command I’ve been attached to, my Marines start growing them as well. Today started out the wrong way, but as the day progressed; it actually worked out in my benefit. The Marine on fire watch didn’t wake me up properly, so I didn’t have the space and time required to properly prepare for the day. I went to the calibration range, and would have been just as dirty as I was before the shower, which I totally was. It literally took twenty minutes for the Marines to setup targets, because the stapler they were utilizing was a piece of shit! It didn’t help that the targets kept falling over either. We were only required to shoot for a short period of time, which kind of defeated the purpose of calibrating our weapons. This is the life I live, but not for long. The Sir and I are the only leaders who work together as one. We don’t segregate our Marines, like so many seem to do. We aren’t going to be operating as a traditional security team. As far as training is concerned, I don’t believe in a one person role. If one person is an expert at a particular skill, I require everyone to be just as proficient as him or her. Everyone within a team should possess the same amount of knowledge, and should progress and strive to perfect each and every skill in existence. No exceptions!!!
Day 13
2009-5-08
This morning started out right. Fire watch woke me up at 0430, and I was able to use the hygiene facilities in peace. We went to the internet center to sign up after picking up our laundry, and hit up the chow hall after using the computers. Chow was pretty good, and we took our time eating. As soon as I made it back to the tent, the senseless games began. At first I was yelled at for not allowing a Marine to transfer files. The person yelling didn’t believe in reasonable explanations, so I just drifted off into my own little world while this idiot hollered. Round two started when I was yelled at by some faggot, who gets off by yelling at people he knows probably won’t yell back because of his position in the rank structure. I was just informed by one of my Marines that they tried to fire me and put him back in the squad leader position, but he denied the offer. He was upset over the fact he was fired in the first place, and said that the only reason why they wanted to fire me, was due to the fact that I do my job, and do it better than anyone, but don’t abide by the bullshit, or give a fuck about what people say or do to me. The Marines see that I’m with them no matter what, and do what they do, and make it a priority to be the absolute best! The second reason for being yelled at today was for my combat rolls, which I’ve always had. The third and fourth time I was yelled at, was due to the fact that the same person who initiated the yelling fest decided to yell at me again for no apparent reason.
Day 14
2009-5-09
One of the toughest Marines in my squad just walked up and hugged me, and told me how much he and the other Marines missed me. If you’re wondering why, it is due to the fact that I was fired last night. All the Marines were extremely upset and threatened to enact a mutiny. This isn’t the first time something like this has occurred, and usually happens at the conclusion of a deployment. The Heavys wind up awarding someone else based off the work I have accomplished. I can’t help the way I feel, and training that pertains to combat, is all that matters; all the other shit is irrelevant to me. I have created and revised numerous combat standard operating procedure manuals, and have only received minimal credit, if any. I don’t care what they think, and never will. As long as the hard work I commit myself to makes its way into the minds of the Marines actually fighting opposition forces, I shall sleep easily, and live each and every day of my life knowing that I made a positive difference. I informed them to never hesitate to ask for advice, and that I will always be available to assist them, no matter what! One of the Grunts living in our tent said I look like the type of person who reads a lot, and offered me a bunch of books, which I gladly accepted. I was reassigned as a Combat Subject Matter Expert within my new squad. Now that I have less bullshit to worry about, I can completely focus on properly training my Marines. I just had an in-depth conversation with the cool dude who gave me the books to read, and he is definitely on my kind of level. Raymond made his way over to my tent today, and was finally able to find out exactly what his view on “Afgarristan” was. Afgarristan is what we started calling this place, after all the fucking garrison rules and regulations were implemented. We engaged in an awesome conversation, and prayed that we shall both be gainfully employed soon. I wish they were able to retrograde with us, so that we can fight this pointless, but inescapable war together.
Day 15
2009-5-10
Today is Mother’s Day, and I called you earlier. I was pleased that you were doing well. I hope you will continue to be well throughout the duration of my stay here in Afghanistan. This morning certainly did not start out well, but slowly became better, before becoming incredibly worse. Since it was Mother’s Day, we were able to go where we pleased, and were required to check in during the normal designated times. My friend Kenneth and I decided to spend the morning on the telephone and internet. Before this transpired, I woke up around three hours earlier than most, as usual, and attempted to enjoy my shower in peace, without fifty other dicks roaming around the facilities. Well, to make a horrible story short, there was no hot water. After a brisk session in the shower, I came back to dress, and wake up my buddy. The line was long. I waited about two hours, but finally managed to speak to the greatest Mother ever, and wished her a well deserved Mother’s Day. We went to chow, and I had my morning ritual drink. We discussed life, and how awesome it will be when we’re finally done with this deployment. We signed up for multiple internet sessions, and accomplished many tasks. If I’m not required to be in our germ infested tent that is filled to the max capacity with some individuals of which I despise, I’m out and about making great things happen. We went to chow again, signed up for the internet, and then proceeded back to the tent to take a nap to prepare for the gym. I bumped into Raymond at the gym, and we both swapped some interesting information. We no longer have hot water, and they closed the local toilet facilities until further notice. Now we will be extremely miserable, due to the fact that we’re heavily restricted, and absolutely filthy. Another company rule has just been implemented, which requires us to wear three point slings, when a one point, which of course I own, is specifically designed for combat.
Day 16
2009-5-11
I relocated my rack last night, because I couldn’t take being surrounded by people, and being able to overhear the conversations the Heavys were having! Fire watch didn’t wake me up as early as usual, due to the fact that they didn’t know where my rack was located. I went to chow, and then used the internet this morning. Chow is getting better by the day, and soon things will change for the worse. The area we will be operating in for most of the deployment won’t have very much water, no internet capabilities, limited hot chow, and no showers! They said we will still be expected to shave every day and maintain proper grooming standards. We were forced to conduct a security patrol on base as punishment for not enjoying ourselves during some classes. I’d much rather be out and about than subjected to outdated combat material all day. All the Marines are either relaxing, or wrestling at my end of the tent. I can’t wait for chow. Hopefully I’m done writing for today, because I have a lot of work to do, revising Combat Logistics Battalion Three’s standard operating procedures.
Day 17
2009-5-12
The Heavys are concocting ways to keep us busy to satisfy their Commanding Officer… We just finished weapons maintenance, and as long as all the internal mechanisms are clean and the weapon is in a perfect firing condition, I’m content. My old squad was told to go down to the motor pool we’re now operating out of to receive some classes; when in fact, they were tricked into going down there for a working party. When you’re placed in a leadership position, your own needs and desires need to be placed aside to a certain extent. You need to stick up for your Marines, and try to alleviate as much bullshit as possible when it pertains to your Marines. When you agree and accept, every meaningless task thrown your way, because you’re afraid that someone in a higher position will think negatively of you, you shouldn’t be a leader. Too many Marines, past, present, and future allow certain events to transpire, that inevitably hinder individual Marines, for their own personal gain. The best Marines are those who take the Marine Corps one contract at a time. I stood up for what I believed in, and was fired because of it. Every Marine who has ever existed, would still follow me into any situation, because they know wholeheartedly that my decisions aren’t based on what someone may think of me. I was supposed to attend some brief yesterday. I was told to take a bus over to the area where the class was being held. They dropped us off two hours early. If I would have known that, I would have just walked. Although, it did pay off significantly, because the idle time lead me to the discovery of a free station, where all of the hygiene products one could want were located. I was also informed of a location where there was free tactical gear. I acquired some Surefire batteries and an extra set of flame resistant organizational gear. Although there was no boots my size, I found a pretty sweet jacket. I also took one for my friend Charles, who was later very appreciative. The Heavys are pissed that I have yet to switch slings, and that I’m showing no signs of giving in. A one point sling is designed for a combat zone, and the last time I checked, that is precisely where we are.
Day 18
2009-5-13
Today didn’t start off all that well; there was no hot water, and the internet center we usually use has been shut down, due to the fact that some Heavy wanted to move into that particular tent. We were told to be back by 0700 for some reason, which only gave us a limited time to eat. We were all forced to walk to the motor pool, which is a good three miles, for absolutely no reason! We showed up, and literally sat around for hours, because our Heavys have no balls. As soon as we arrived, I immediately proceeded to take my blouse off. The Mascot sent a junior Marine over to ask me to put my blouse back on, because she is too scared to ask me herself. They wanted all the Marines to put their blouses back on, while the Heavy’s and the Mascot’s useless asses sat in an air cooled tent. She asked me why I wasn’t trying to redeem myself, and although she doesn’t rate an answer, I told her you have to do something wrong in order to seek out redemption. My buddy and I picked up a whole bunch of free items from the free station, and walked all around the base until finally we were picked up by some awesome civilians who brought us back to the tent. We slept for a while in the ridiculous heat, and woke up to the sound of screaming. A whole bunch of Marines were reprimanded for rolling their sleeves and wearing white socks. I’m going to chow now, and pray that this state of hypocrisy will soon come to an end. “Common sense only makes sense to those who make sense.” I just returned from chow, and thought about getting a haircut, but will wait for another day.
Day 19
2009-5-14
This morning started out well, as well as it could be with a cold shower. Then the games began. I was called out by the Mascot and switched on. One of the Heavys called me over, and immediately started screaming at me for apparently giving him incorrect information. He yelled at me in front of the entire company, accusing me of not knowing my weapon serial number. At this point, I lost it and started yelling back, justifying myself. After yelling back and forth for about five minutes, I walked away. The cool Heavy took me outside, and informed me that I was right, but wrong for yelling at a Heavy in front of the entire company. Another Heavy requested to see me outside to hear my side of the story, and all of the Heavys later concluded that I was innocent. The Mascot, as usual, failed to do one simple task, of which was her only, due to the fact that no one has figured out if she is even capable of doing anything at all. The Heavy said that I, out of everyone in the company, know that it would be an unacceptable decision to place her in a squad, because no Marine would adhere to her commands, or follow her lead; which could cause serious or deadly consequences in a combat related situation. She intentionally built a wall of dereliction around herself, encompassing her in an aura of irresponsibility. As usual, I was yelled at for other people’s mistakes. I’m here to lead, and to guide Marines through one of the most dangerous life journeys they will ever be subjected to. “You’re the only Marine who needs two vehicles in a convoy; one for you and one for your balls.” This was said to me by one of my Marines, after the incident this morning. There exits many things I’m not, and a liar is one of them. I just want to do what it is I’m required to do in this hellish country, and get the fuck out, never to adhere to this ignorant life style again. We went over to the motor pool for no reason again, and apparently have a class tomorrow. We shall see…
Day 20
2009-5-15
Still no hot water!!! Today was going smoothly until I was found at the internet center by a couple of Marines; who informed me that a Heavy was looking for me. I had to cut my internet session short, but already had plans of journeying back later on tonight, to continue surfing the World Wide Web. The only problem is the internet facilities are now three miles away, which totally hinders my plans. Six miles total and required periodic accountability checks are certainly a hindrance. Someone misplaced or stole two cameras from Transport Company today, and they were all forced to dump their bags and pockets. I’m going to assume the latter is true. I’m grateful our command trusts us enough, and we won’t be participating in this investigation. I’ve just been dubbed with yet another title by a group of Marines from my old squad; “Sergeant Big Dick.” This was concluded after I told the Marines I was leaving, and will go back to flying Cobra helicopters, in a facetious manner. One of them said that he didn’t want me flying over him, because I may very well smack him in the head with my dick. They just switched up the squads again, which is an incredibly bad idea when you’re in a combat zone; just when we thought things were beginning to improve. We ate at the British chow hall and gawked at the abundance of beautiful woman. The food was actually pretty good, and I think their bottled water is a lot better than ours. We utilized the internet facilities, and took full advantage of the infinite time limit. I had some problems signing on to some websites, but later solved that problem by computer hopping. A lot of Marines get involved with each other, and it usually winds up being more of a hassle than anything else. I haven’t found many Marines in my soon to be eight years all that attractive, or suitable for a relationship. A lot of them smoke, or participate in activities of which I don’t personally find attractive. I’ll elaborate more in tomorrow’s entry on what my personal opinion is towards the majority of female Marines.
Day 21
2009-5-16
Another cold shower, some breakfast, and the day begins. As promised, I told you I’d give you my opinion on the majority of female Marines. They claim they’re the same, yet they’re not required to do the same physical fitness test males are required to do. They don’t even have the same run time standard, even though woman have been documented as being some of the fastest runners on Earth. I have met a select few, who were able to do more pull ups and run faster than a lot of the male Marines; so it’s a proven fact that they can complete a male physical fitness test successfully. The standard should be the same, no exceptions! When deployment season is fast approaching, miraculously women start getting pregnant. They are exempt from deployments, and are usually replaced by a Marine who has already been deployed three or more times. Even back in the states, pregnant Marines affect the work force. When a Marine in charge of allocating Marines sees a pregnant Marine on a master accountability roster, it doesn’t identify a Marine as being pregnant. The problem with this is that the person in charge of allocation won’t send any new Marines over to that unit to assist them now that they lost a Marine. The pregnant Marine is off taking care of herself, and has all the time off she needs; she is incapable of doing her job. All the other Marines in her unit suffer due to this loss, and have to work extra hard. My opinion is, if you want to have children, don’t join the military. It hinders those who are in the military for the right reasons, which is to go to war, and kill the mother fuckers who are trying to kill us, which a pregnant Marine obviously cannot do. Whatever anyone may think, always remember that the military exists for one purpose, and that is to kill thy enemy. It shouldn’t be used as a tool to assist someone in raising a family. I believe that most, not all, female Marines had some psychological issues growing up. Most girls play with dolls, dress up and act out their future wedding day; as opposed to boys, who play with guns and act out huge battles with little toy militants. Maybe they were molested at a younger age or treated poorly by their parents, and joined the military as a way out. Who really knows? But for all you former or current female militants, or any female readers who may be reading this, know this, all I want is to be able to say Marine, and mean exactly that. I don’t want a difference between male and female Marines to exist; I want them to be exactly the same, through and through. I challenge all of you to fight for equality, but to exclude the exceptions. I find that people always complain when things are more difficult, not when they’re easier, when it pertains to equality. Now fight for your right to do exactly what we do, so that there are no differences among us. Then and only then, shall I wholeheartedly believe that a Marine is a Marine, regardless of their gender.
Day 22
2009-5-17
I thought about her again; a little more than I should have for supposedly being over her. Although she was the first to claim she loved me out loud, I believe I was the only one who truly loved her. And I still do. Enough about that, let’s get to the antics. First off, if you didn’t know already, I live in a tent that exceeds temperatures of one hundred degrees during the day, and could get as low as fifty degrees at night. There exists no happy medium. I share this tent with over a hundred people. Just imagine that many people, and all the germs and smells that come with them; living in such a confined place. The Platoon Heavys have taken the lead on not doing a mother fucking thing. Their job consists of having other people establish accountability. Other than that, they just lounge around all day and do nothing. The Mascot has been unveiled, and they are currently treating her like the shitbag she’s always been, it’s about time. The shower water is still freezing, but the six mile trip to use the internet makes up for it, because there is no time limit, and it’s fast for Afghanistan standards. I can’t believe how hot it is, and it’s only May. The chow over on the British side has been awesome lately, and we love going there. They want me to retake all of my pre-deployment training, because my training was received prior to 2009. I tried loading one page yesterday, and was eventually kicked out while it was still loading, because some fucking General was making an appearance. Marines hate Generals, because their Heavys cause them to. Whenever one is scheduled to make an appearance, all the Heavys get their dick sucking faces on and make junior Marines do things they normally wouldn’t do; like mop a floor covered in sand in a combat zone. The most peculiar thing, but expected event of which occurred yesterday, was the Heavys promoting me. I’m now the Reactionary Force Commander. Competency prevailed over behavior, because behavior is irrelevant when proficiency is required. I can expect to be walking in excess of ten miles each day, now that I have to go over to the Combat Operation Center every morning and evening, to turn in my manifest. There are no missions, and no real reasons to have so many Marines here on base at this point in time. As it is right now, this base can’t accommodate the personnel it has, let alone another ten thousand. There will be water and food shortages soon. The lines and turnaround time for laundry are ridiculous. It has been confirmed that the United States will be at an operational pause thirty days prior, and thirty days after the Afghan electoral process. We will serve no purpose for sixty days, so that everyone is clear that we had no control over how the elections turned out.
Day 23
2009-5-18
Jessica Lee called me the most straight forward person ever yesterday, and said my little battle with the Heavy the other day turned her on. It wasn’t the first, nor the last time I’ll be accused of being completely voided of the ability to refrain from speaking my mind. This morning began with a cold shower, as usual, and preparing for my first three mile walk to the motor pool. I took all of my gear with me, so this walk was heavier than usual. Did what I had to do over there, ate some breakfast, and began my three mile walk back. When I arrived, I went to my point of contact to see if I was able to complete my pre-deployment training. I know, shouldn’t I have done that before I deployed, and before I spent more than eighty hours outside the safe zone? Whatever… As usual, I was told that I wouldn’t be able to use a computer, and I was told by the Colonel himself to get these classes completed, no matter what. None of my Heavys would help, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I went over to the internet center and totally broke the thirty minute rule by staying on for about six hours, attempting to complete my mission. Although I meant well, I still managed to get in trouble, because information wasn’t passed properly. They had a fake, indirect fire drill, because Higher had nothing better to do, and wants to see how fast individual companies can suck their dicks. I, of course, was doing what I was supposed to be doing, but couldn’t be found for accountability during the drill. When I got back to the tent, the games or should I say hazing in its purest form, commenced. We were told by our heaviest enlisted Heavy, that he wished he could fire us all, and start anew with a brand new company of Marines. That’s something you really want to tell a group of Marines you’re supposed to take care of. A new rule which has recently been implemented is squad movements only; every time one member of a squad needs to do something, the entire squad must go along as well. In my case, twenty seven Marines must do everything in unison. If we need to go to the bathroom, everyone must go, even during the night and early morning when every member of the squad is usually fast asleep. If you need to make a telephone call, use the internet, do laundry, eat at the chow hall, jerk off, take care of a personal problem, or even try to have some semblance of privacy in a combat zone, where it’s already so difficult to achieve, my whole team must be present. Let me get back to that, because I was just informed by a friend, that the Heavys were talking shit about my low regulation haircut. The one Heavy asked why none of them said anything, and his conclusion was the same as mine; they don’t have the balls to say anything to me about it. Back to the hazing. All this will do, is cause Marines to falter on their hydration standards, in fear of having to get everyone up and ready to go with them when they need to piss, which will inevitably cause mass dehydration amongst the Marines, due to a lack of water, coupled with the ridiculous heat here in Afghanistan. Marines, who ran out of clean clothes before, will certainly run out more often, or neglect to do it at all. Telephone calls and internet use will be extremely difficult to achieve, and the Marines will not have the ability to keep in contact with their loved ones. Let’s analyze this situation more thoroughly. My squad, which is the biggest, has twenty eight Marines total when I’m included. If we all had to take showers and utilize the sinks at the same time, we’re talking about a significant amount of time just to get them shaved and showered. Laundry would be the same, considering it takes about two to three minutes to process each person. Let’s look at this whole ordeal in a tactical aspect. All twenty seven of my Marines are in the same locations throughout the day. One well placed mortar round would annihilate my entire fucking team! Awesome hazing tactic Heavys! It continues. You thought I was through? At 0600, 0800, 1700, and 2200, all Marines will be in front of their racks, with all of their respective serialized gear; boot camp style at its finest, ready for accountability, all because of some faggot ass Marine, who is afraid of being yelled at by the Heavys. Cry me a river, you no balls mother fucker! I hate these Careerists and their selfish ways. If you’re afraid of the prospect of being yelled at, and are only concerned about your own personal evaluation, you shouldn’t be a leader! To add something to this hazing cake, get this. The two idiots in charge, who absolutely despise me because I have purpose, concocted a plan to have me walk to the motor pool again, to replace a Marine on fire watch over at the reactionary tent. Now I’m required to walk over twelve to eighteen miles a day, in plus one hundred degree weather! My feet usually hold up, but we’re required to wear boots for more than fourteen hours a day, so I hope they last. I am so done with this shit, and will have to be the one who ends it, for no one else will.
Day 24
2009-5-19
Today began without a shower or a shave! Today I would like to begin this entry with a question, and that question is for the United States government. Where, pray tell, are all the fucking funds? Where does it all go? That’s right, silly me, it goes to all the companies like Kellogg Brown And Root, who squander mass hordes of our funding, in exchange for mediocre services. We, as a military, are not allowed to speak negatively about our chain of command, and why would the civilians care, when they are blind to what actually goes on or could care less even if they did. All the super rich officials in Washington have first dibs on all the contracts pertaining to war zones and set up monopolies, which inevitably rake in our taxes! They prosper significantly, and are usually individually tax exempt. The United States of America is awesome at discretionary corruption, and has mastered the ability to minimize public exposure. I wish the Mascot could last longer during our staring bouts, because ten seconds is just pathetic. I dare her to try and beat me. I’ll always fucking prevail, no matter what! In other news, the hazing cake was just thrown in the face of its creator this morning, due to the fact that they broke under pressure when I requested mast. I can take all that war has to throw at me, but will not tolerate being told when I can, or can’t relieve myself. That was a problem, and I’m an avid problem solver! I just finished describing to Jessica Lee what her entire personal situation is exactly. I’ve always had a knack for expertly reading people. I never could, nor will I ever understand why so many people try to rush their lives. I can’t fathom why anyone would want to subject themselves to one person for the rest of their life at the age of eighteen. They just became adults, and have experienced nothing. Go live your lives, go travel the Universe, and maybe you’ll discover that life has more to offer than you ever imagined possible. Today we were potentially going to be activated for a recovery mission that was way outside of our mission capabilities at this point in time. Here is the best part; they expected us to do this without trucks, no weapons, and without the mandatory equipment required to operate properly, and more importantly, safely! It’s not even worth going into grave detail, because it’s not even believable to me, and I lived it! They say I’m the best, and I know I’m the best, but this fact alone will not be enough to wake these people up to the realities of war. I hope they come to their senses soon, or a lot of people will be going home prematurely; in a bunch of fucking boxes.
Day 25
2009-5-20
I woke up today about three hours prior to anyone even contemplating on starting their day For the first time in a very long time, my morning began with a hot shower!!! I took one of my Marines over to the chow hall, before making the long walk over to the motor pool. Upon arriving, I sought out the Heavy in charge of the vehicles. I asked him in a professional manner if there were any vehicles available for my team to utilize. He automatically started yelling at me and speaking to me in a belittling fashion. His demeanor is hostile each and every time I attempt to talk to him! All I was attempting to do was my job, and was chastised by a fucking Wirerat with a complex. Having a reactionary force on standby in case of an emergency, is obviously not a concern for these idiots, even if by regulation, a command is required at a minimum, to have the same amount of assets inside the wire as they do out of it. I guess him referring to my, in his opinion, eccentric haircut, and my out of regulation mustache is more important than the regulations that actually matter! I hate that mother fucker, but have the luxury of knowing that he will always be a slave to someone of a higher rank, and to tobacco. In all actuality, I should feel sorry for him. Combat Logistics Battalion Three should have never of let us take over until we were completely ready. We’re operating at way below the legal operating standard, and just sent a convoy out to Now Zad this morning, which is known to be one of the worst areas in our area of operation. May God help them, because we sure as hell can’t. My friend Natalie was just walking around here in some skimpy little shorts, of which I was teasing her about. She was in my old squad, with the company I was with prior to this one; the company I was supposed to go out to Iraq with again. She’s cool, and very good at getting what she wants from the boys; kind of like Her. I hope the thoughts, and the pain I feel eventually goes away, because I’ve felt it long enough. Have you ever hated and loved someone at the same time? Now you know my pain. My good friend Denise just sent me a package filled with hygiene gear! I love it! Thanks woman. I just finished organizing all of it, and put everything in the box perfectly. Now everything is clean and organized, the only way it should ever be!!!