unsoshabl » Military

heh

unsoshabl — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 09:39:05 +0000

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Military Life

unsoshabl — Thu, 28 Jun 2007 09:44:46 +0000

You stay up for 16 hours

He stays up for days on end.
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You take a warm shower to help you wake up.

He goes days or weeks without running water.
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You complain of a “headache”, and call in sick.

He gets shot at as others are hit, and keeps moving forward.
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You put on your anti war/don’t support the troops shirt, and go meet up with your friends.

He still fights for your right to wear that shirt.
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You make sure you’re cell phone is in your pocket.

He clutches the cross hanging on his chain next to his dog tags.
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You talk trash about your “buddies” that aren’t with you.

He knows he may not see some of his buddies again.
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You walk down the beach, staring at all the pretty girls.

He patrols the streets, searching for insurgents and terrorists.
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You complain about how hot it is.

He wears his heavy gear, not daring to take off his helmet to wipe his brow.
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You go out to lunch, and complain because the restaurant got your order wrong.

He doesn’t get to eat today.
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Your maid makes your bed and washes your clothes.

He wears the same things for weeks, but makes sure his weapons are clean.
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You go to the mall and get your hair redone.

He doesn’t have time to brush his teeth today.
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You’re angry because your class ran 5 minutes over.

He’s told he will be held over an extra 2 months.
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You call your girlfriend and set a date for tonight.

He waits for the mail to see if there is a letter from home.
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You hug and kiss your girlfriend, like you do everyday.

He holds his letter close and smells his love’s perfume.
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You roll your eyes as a baby cries.

He gets a letter with pictures of his new child, and wonders if they’ll ever meet.
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You criticize your government, and say that war never solves anything.

He sees the innocent tortured and killed by their own people and remembers why he is fighting.
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You hear the jokes about the war, and make fun of men like him.

He hears the gunfire, bombs and screams of the wounded.
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You see only what the media wants you to see.

He sees the broken bodies lying around him.
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You are asked to go to the store by your parents. You don’t.

He does exactly what he is told even if it puts his life in danger.
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You stay at home and watch TV.

He takes whatever time he is given to call, write home, sleep, and eat.
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You crawl into your soft bed, with down pillows, and get comfortable.

He tries to sleep but gets woken by mortars and helicopters all night long.

A Different Christmas Poem

unsoshabl — Mon, 04 Dec 2006 09:46:45 +0000

A Different Christmas Poem

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn’t quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
“What are you doing?” I asked without fear,
“Come in this moment, it’s freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!”

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire’s light
Then he sighed and he said “Its really all right,
I’m out here by choice. I’m here every night.”
“It’s my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I’m proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at ‘Pearl on a day in December,”
Then he sighed, “That’s a Christmas ‘Gram always remembers.”
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ‘Nam’,
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I’ve not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he’s sure got her smile.

Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue…an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.”

“So go back inside,” he said, “harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I’ll be all right.”
“But isn’t there something I can do, at the least,
“Give you money,” I asked, “or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you’ve done,
For being away from your wife and your son.”
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
“Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we’re gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.”

US Military Man

unsoshabl — Sun, 18 Jun 2006 10:01:55 +0000

Dear Terrorists,

I am a US Military Aviator. I was born and raised in a small town in New England. I come from a family of five. I was raised in a middle class home and taught my values by my mother and father. My dad worked a series of jobs in finance and my Mom took care of us kids. We were not an overly religious family but attended church most Sundays. It was a nice small Episcopal Church. I have a brother and sister and I am the youngest in my family. I was the first in many generations to attend college.

I have flown Military aircraft for 16 years. For me the flying was never a lifelong dream or a “calling,” it just happened. I needed a job and I liked the challenge. I continue to do it today because I feel it is important to give back to a nation which has given so much to me. I do it because although I will never be rich, my family will be comfortable. I do it because many of my friends have left for the airlines and someone has to do it. My government has spent millions to train me to fly these multimillion dollar aircrafts. I make about 70,000 dollars a year and after 20 years will be offered a pension.

I like baseball but think the players make too much money. I am in awe of firemen and policemen and what they do each day for my community, and like teachers, they just don’t get paid enough. I respect my elders and always use sir or ma’am when addressing a stranger. I’m not sure about kids these days but I think that’s normal for every generation. I voted for George Bush not for his IQ but because I like him. I think I made a pretty good choice.

I tell you all this because when I come for you, I want you to know me. I won’t be hiding behind a woman or a child. I won’t be disguised or pretending to be something I am not. I will be in a US issue flight suit. I will be wearing standard US issue flight gear, and I will be flying an aircraft clearly marked as a US warplane. I wish we could meet up close in a small room where I could wrap my hands around your throat and slowly squeeze the life out of you but unfortunately you’re hiding in a hole in the ground so we will have to do this a different way.

I want you to know also that I am very good at what I do. I can put a 2,000 LB weapon through a window from 10,000 feet up. I generally only fly at night so you may want to start sleeping during the day. I am not eager to die for my country but I am willing to sacrifice my life to protect it from animals like you. I will do everything in my power to ensure no civilians are hurt as I take aim at you.

My countrymen are a forgiving bunch. Many are already forgetting what you did on Sept 11th. But I will not forget, and my President will not forget.
I am coming. I hope you know me a little bit better, see you soon, sleep tight.

Signed….. a US Military Pilot

Disrespected

unsoshabl — Fri, 24 Feb 2006 10:08:52 +0000

You know, I am not one to get pissed off for stupid ppl I dont like saying shit about me. But tonight I got more angry and upset, than I have been in a couple years. I went to my “usuall” bar and was having a good time for the most part. I mean I had a few bumps in the road such as a dumb drunk ugly bitch steal my pool table just after I racked the balls. but anyways wasnt that big of a deal, got over it fast.

So I was just sitting with a buddie, and I had noticed a guy named Mack sitting a couple chairs down from me. I never really liked him much being he is conceded and when ever I have tried to initiate conversation before, he ignored me or said something stupid with the attitude he was better than I. So a few minutes pass and another buddie sitting between Mack and I gets up and leaves. Mack looks over a few after that, and says “why you wearing that uniform?” again in that I am better than you attitude, due to me wearing my Military DCU’s. So I look over and said in a short and snappy reply, “Cuz I Can!”. He’s looking at me in disbelief. Then he says “is that your answer?” and I just nodded without looking at him.

Mack then said “is that your name…… Schwartzenager?” and I look over with a shitty look, and he said “or Schwartzemager?” and I replied and short and snotty like “Yeh, something like that” and turned my head back but watching him from the corner of my eye. He turns his head to the bar shaking it in disrespect. So a minute passes and he started to speak so I turned my head towards him. He said “Well I dont believe you for wearing that and and……………. and that is my problem”.

Man I got so pissed. I mean I acctully feal a slight bit of those who served in Vietnam and came home to ridicul. I was so pissed. I wasnt so much pissed that it happened to me, I was pissed that he would say that to someone in uniform. I mean who the fuck is he. I believe he was a Marine at one time. And for him to pull this shit. Fuck you Mack!

So my heart pumped so fucking hard I could swear ppl could see it pumping through my chest. I was so angered. The only thing I was thinking is to stand up, reach back, and just bitch slap him as hard as I could to provoke a fight and let him swing……. and swing I wish he would have, cuz I would have trampled that mother fucker.

But I couldnt only for the fact I was in uniform and the fact is that I fight for his and everyones freedom and that freedom includes him tlaking shit or for ppl to burn the flag I live and would die by. So I started to think I should go home, change, and then come back and see if he wanted some then.

But I feel I did the right thing by sitting there and holding my patients back even while he went over and started talking more shit to another person about me. I held it. I cant believe I held it. You know for someone to ignore me when I am in civilian clothes and then get the nerve to talk to me when I am in uniform with nothing but attitude and shit talk. That is bullshit.

I dont think I will be going back there for awhile. I think I need a brake from that place. I havent been going there much lately as it is, and I now know why. If he ever does something like that again, to me or anyone else, I will fucking kick his ass and show him that his money wont protect him. Stupid mother fucking piece of shit.

So anyways he left a while later and I just sat there. I was still so pissed. I was hurt. I was playing megatouch and I actully had tears forming in my eyes. Why would someone do that to me. I was hurt. I am still hurt. I cant believe this shit. I will find peace with this. Whether it takes time or a good ass whipping, I will find peace.

Fucking commy bastards.

Well anyways, have a great night and take care all. Tomorrow is a new day.

Average Soldier

unsoshabl — Tue, 31 Jan 2006 10:12:18 +0000

The average age of the military soldier is 19-22 years. He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. She is a beyond average strength, small power house…considerent by all as a hidden package…a diamond in the ruff yet to show her beauty. Not yet dry behind the ears, not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for their country. They never really cared much for work and they would rather wax their own car than wash their father’s; but they has never collected unemployment either. Their a recent High School graduate; probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has a steady girlfriend or boyfriend that either broke up with them when they left, or swears to be waiting when they returns from half a world away. They listens to rock and roll or hip-hop or rap or jazz or swing and 155mm howizzitor. They are 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when they were at home because they are working or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk. They have trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for them, but they can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less time in the dark. They can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively if they must. Soldiers dig foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional. They can march until they are told to stop or stop until they are told to march. They obey orders instantly and without hesitation, but they are not without spirit or individual dignity. Soldiers are self-sufficient. They have two sets of fatigues: they wash one and wear the other. They keep their canteens full and their feet dry. They sometimes forget to brush their teeth, but never to clean their rifle. They can cook their own meals, mend their own clothes, and fix their own hurts. If you’re thirsty, they’ll share their water with you; if you are hungry, their food. They’ll even split their ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low. They have learned to use their hands like weapons and weapons like they were their hands. They can save your life – or take it, because that is their job. They will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay and still find ironic humor in it all. They have seen more suffering and death then they should have in their short lifetimes. They have stood atop mountains of dead bodies, and helped to create them. They have wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and are unashamed. They feel every note of the National Anthem vibrate through their body’s while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to ’square-away’ those around them who haven’t bothered to stand, remove their hat, or even stop talking. In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, they defend their right to be disrespectful. Just as did their Fathers, Grandfathers, and Great-grandfathers, they are paying the price for our freedom. They are the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years. They have asked nothing in return, except our friendship and understanding. Remember them, always, for they have earned our respect and admiration with their blood. As you go to bed tonight, remember this shot.. A short lull, a little shade and a picture of loved ones in their helmets.

Awsome article about my Battalion in Iraq

unsoshabl — Sat, 31 Dec 2005 10:12:58 +0000

8 JANUARY 2005

141 ENGINEERS, NORTH DAKOTA ARMY NATIONAL GUARD-
TRAILBLAZER DESERT LEGENDS OF TASK FORCE DANGER

Dear Editor,

Last fall I arrived in Kuwait for active duty in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. From the moment I began the process of getting into theater I was approached by officers, soldiers and contractors about the NDARNG patch on the left shoulder of my desert camo uniform. “Are you with the 141? Go Trailblazers! Thanks for the security. You guys are great!!” and of course the ever present army mantra which is affirmative and emphatic for everything in the universe, “Hooah!”. Initially I was confused by the patch attention and elicited response especially, since I was not part of the 141 (fortunately I ended up serving with the same division command). Nonetheless, one thing was quite apparent – there was a military legend in the Iraqi desert to the north.

Most North Dakotans will never realize the contributions, service, sacrifices, commitment and down right raw courage that the men and women of the 141 have demonstrated in Iraq. Accolades from the commanding general, division commander, brigade commander have been unwavering for the mission focus and accomplishments of the 141. A senior officer who was awarded a purple heart and bronze star for his battle valor and served with the 141, made it clear to me, “The 141 are true heroes”. Not bad praise considering these career officers are fulltime active duty leaders who lead and command the finest professional soldiers in the world. As the brigade commander said of the 141, “We love those guys and they are part of us through and through. Its amazing what they have done”. As 141 soldiers may confess early on during the mission there was even a concern the unit wouldn’t be able to carry out its mission. No one ever imagined the 141 would be the wartime mission benchmark. The leadership of the 141 in LTC Fode and CSM Brager deserve recognition for the enterprise they have welded. The camaraderie and ingenuity of the unit is unsurpassed in this war effort. It is impossible to put into words the experiences a ND impact of removing 300 plus improvised explosive devices, daily dodging of vehicle borne improvised explosive devices, bullets, mortars and RPGs, confiscating weapon and ammunition caches, awarding 30 plus purple hearts, logging, tens of thousands of lethal, hard and monotonous convoy miles in vehicles they armored, maintained and built to their mission specs. There was even community medical assistance work and community building projects.

Then there is the emotional component of dealing with fellow soldiers paying the ultimate sacrifice, their lives. Their stories are all heroic. Chapels, helipads, vehicles at forward operation bases also bear the work, craftsmanship, faith, artistry, of the 141. Not bad for a unit of engineers who many fulltime folks thought would fail! So as preparation is made for the 141 to return home I would like to tell everyone there is a legend in Iraq and the legend is the 141 Trailblazer desert legends of Task Force Danger. These soldiers are so anxious to return home and I pray they stay mission focused until they are out of enemy sites. When the 141 returns to North Dakota many of the soldiers will find it difficult to share their accomplishments or be able to communicate the accolades of what military leadership in a theater of war has said about these accomplishments and their successful overall mission. So, please say a prayer for the safety of the soldiers and for the families of those soldiers killed in action. When the 141 returns to North Dakota go out of your way to say thank you and you just may be fortunate enough to hear some of their extraordinary stories- they are the stories legends are made of, and you will be proud of.

Colonel Craig Lambrecht
First Infantry Division
Division Support Command
Iraq

Understand our Soldiers

unsoshabl — Tue, 08 Nov 2005 10:13:33 +0000

Does anyone understand that our soldier truly do have ears and can hear the negative things that are said, and also have feelings too, even though we arent sappose to use them. We are still affected by the things ppl say and do. How hard is that to believe.

I just dont get why People have to be so insensitive. I mean, alot of ppl are really greatful for the fact that I was willing to risk my life for the Great USofA, but that I risked it all for the wrong reasons. So in other words I risked my life no reason at all. Do any of you understand that I didnt risk my life for no reason, or the wrong reason? I did it with reason, purpose and pride. how many Iraqi’s have you spoken to lately? How many have told the stories of saddam killing thier father, sister or uncle? Yeh once in awhile you will hear on the news an Iraqi saying they dont want us there, but the fact is that most of them want us there.

Another thing that really gets to most of the service members when they come home is the fricken news that is played showing only negative stuff on the TV or radio. When I came home on leave I was so hurt that noone wanted me in Iraq and that the only thing they showed is Americans geting killed or that we were up to no good in that country. That is bullshit, what about he nasty dictator we overthrew, or all the weapons we are destroying each day, or the schools and hospitals we are building or the economic and military stability we are creating within that region?

When I came home on leave, I was seriously hurt do to the negativity, I cried often. I had almost lost my life a few times over in that country, but the closest I came is when a few buddies and I were on our way home for leave. We were at FOB Anaconda for the night so we could catch a C-130 (plane) to goto kuwait. We had just gotten done eating Dinner Chow and started walking to the PX. The alarms for “incoming” (mortars/rockets) started going off.

Well normally you would go get your Kevlar and IBAS (Individual Ballistic Armor System) and carry on with what you were doing. But in our cases we had just turned it in for the reason of going on pass. We live at FOB Spiecher and we are kinda use to mortars, as they hardly ever come close to any populated areas. So just carried on to the PX and started shopping for little odds and ends like pop and snacks as we were going to see a movie at the theater because we dont have one at Spiecher.

I had gotten done first with shopping and went into the little entrance way to the PX to wait for the others to finish. I was just about to go out and smoke on the stairs when I noticed that my buddies were heading to the checkout line and decided to wait as I knew they would wanna smoke too. I was looking out the glass doors past about 7 or 8 ppl when the loudest BOOM I had ever heard surrounded me and sent a concusion through my body.

I instantly crouched down and put my arms over my face and head. I took a look at the door between my arms to see what had happened. It was like I was in a Rambo movie or something. I remember the sight, and it is a sight I will never forget as this is truly horrific. When I took a look, it seemed as if the sun had dissapeared and I seen glass flying in at me faster than shit. Beyond the glass was the largest dust cloud, and through the dust cloud was 3 bodies flying through the air.

It was like a movie in slow motion, I swear on my life it seems to take 45 seconds just for that scene to play through when in actuality it was more like 2 1/2 seconds. Suddenly I was pushed from behind and then from my left side and through the inside door of the PX. I got next to the cash register when I got shoved again and went sliding down the aisle on my stomache. I dont know who shoved me but I believe it was a black man and black woman standing behind me when the blast occured.

I sat inside for about 20 seconds when they started calling for all medics and combat lifesavers. I am a combat lifesaver. I had to find my buddies to make sure they were ok first. I ended up running into them torwards the door. Spc. Black was a CLS too, so we walked through the doorway I was just shoved through and then out the doors that hald the glass that few in at me. I remember looking down the 4 or 5 steps and seeing blood and glass everywhere. After seeing the blood and glass I remember my stomache dropping and realizing what had just occured.

I looked around from the top of the steps and seen about 10 to 15 bodies laying all over. I ran to the first “downed” that had about 5 ppl already around him giving him aid. I look at his face, what a thing to see. His skins was the most chalky grey I had ever seen, worse than a dead person. He wasnt moving, just there. He was 37 years old I later found out and it was his last day in country because his tour was up. I notices a lump in his face about the size of a baseball located on his left cheak bone.

His leg and arm were obviously broken and you could see into his chest through the 3 inch wide and 7 or 8 inch long gash. Blood covered the ground under his entire body and blood trickeled out his ears. The baseball in his cheak was a piece of shrapnel that his cheakbone had stopped after entering behind his right ear.

There were already to many ppl there to help and I looked around at the other motionless or frantic bodies laying on the ground covered in blood and all were being helped. It would have been unwise to assist as we would have gotten in the way. Everyone was hustled into the PX for shelter except those where rendering aid to the victoms.

It was about 15 to 20 minutes later when we met up with the rest of out group that was going on leave at the same time we were and we got the hell outta there. We drove by the movie theater and my buddies went to go see one. I couldnt, I had to get as far away from that PX as possible. Me and the rest of the group went to the tents we were held up in for the night. I smoke about 3 smokes and then laid down. I was out. I talked to a medic later and she said that is a normal and good thing, as that is how a mind shuts it’s self down for a insane amount of stress it cannot handle at the time.

Well that is the story of my PX adventure at Anaconda. I am sure you are asking what happened. Well 122mm Rocket hit the PX roughly 10 meters from where I was. Soldiers had notices a hodgie outside the PX on a cell phone and acting frantic Prior to the explosion. He dissapeared a few minutes before hand. The MP’s cought him and 2 buddies outside the perimeter of the base and arrested them. Should have shot the fuckers in my opinion.

I ask, for the sake of all the military over there, coming home, or going over there, dont talk trash about them being there, or going there, be positive, it will indeed make a difference to them. Even if they say something negative, stay positive, because later they will think about it, and they will feel better that someone is proud and backing them, no matter what.

Enough complaining for tonight. Take care folks, and make sure you do what you can for the world today, cuz it may not be there tomarrow.