You should have been drilled in the head while hiding in that spider hole. However the wait had to of sucked knowing you were going to be killed by hanging. The noose being placed around your neck. The silence right before the floor dropped.
Lights out!
I read in a news article that the assumption of recruiting foreigners into the Armed Services is essentially having mercenaries defending our country.
*blink*
*blink*
I don’t know about you but I think this is just absurd. I know that despite what country you were born in you will endure the same training any red blooded American would. So just because you live in a different country and are recruited you are deemed a mercenary? Man I just want to smack some people in the ear lobe for being this dumb.
I served with a few non US Citizens that were in Iraq in a US Army uniform that went through the same training I did. Do those soldier’s earn their citizenship quicker? You damn right they do. They ought to get it the day they step foot in the war zone.
So back on topic about the Foreigner Recruiter = American Mercenaries. Is this shit really news worthy?
Into the night a soldier will go.
Clearing houses and roads don’t you know?
He zigs to the left and zags to the right.
Ensuring safety all through the night.
For the moment.
Not a bad guy was stirring.
Not even a mouse.
Assault bags full of treats.
From loved ones back home.
Fills the belly’s of these warriors all alone.
They live for the mission.
Hour by hour.
The blissful peace that is for the moment.
Ends with a shot midst their roaming
When the dust is settled.
And all is well.
The soldier drives on as he always will.
The reality of it is.
They know where they are.
And believe in what they do.
Give them credit when credit is due.
Goodnight Soldiers and Merry Christmas.
From one soldier to another.
I wish you well.
© American Soldier 2006
Well folks the competition is very stiff this year. I am among the finalist for 2006 Best Military Blog. I feel honored to be listed with this group.
So here is how it will all pan out:
December 6, 2006 - Finalist badges and voting link codes available
December 7, 2006 - Voting begins
December 15, 2006 - Voting ends
December 18, 2006 - Results certified
The 7th of December begins the contest. I believe you are allowed 1 vote per day. I look forward to the final results. Here is the list of my competitors:
Best Military Blog
American Soldier
Bouhammer’s Afghanistan Blog
Blackfive
Grey Eagle, A Female Soldier
Michael Yon
Mudville Gazette
Neptunus Lex
Op-For
Sgt. Hook
SMASH
Up until today I didn’t think about it much. I was dropping my son off at school when I saw a tractor trailer that resembled one that really turn the tides for me in Iraq.
It was a particularly normal day on patrol. Just waiting for the enemy to attack us. We were weaving in and out of the city in inconsistent patterns looking for trouble. You felt like a worm on the end of a hook at times. Never the less, we embraced the moments when they grew the balls to actually shoot at us.
We were passing an intersection in our sector that resulted in many incidents for our unit. There were a few ING (Iraqi National Guard) vehicles stopped on it. I just looked at them and thought how stupid they were for being such an easy target. They were dismounted and just hanging out. Standing around smoking and joking. At the time we were allowing the ING more space in our sector. After all it’s their country and we were slowly giving them more territory to patrol with each passing day.
I had my driver go down a few streets and turn back around. I knew there was an embedded Soldier or Marine with that gaggle fuck. So I wanted to let him know that this road was a bad place to just stop and dismount. We were coming up on their vehicles when a shot rang out. The sound of .50 cal & 240B gun fire ensued. We must have been within 200 meters of them and one of the gunners traversed toward my vehicle and actually fired a few rounds our way. Those crazy bastards shoot at anything that moves sometimes.
My driver crosses over the road. I point to a vehicle and tell him to go there. I elbow my gunner to fire but he is already on it. As we got closer I could see someone down. The gunner who shot at us ducked back down in the turret into his vehicle. I thought he might have been shot too. Instead he was just cowering in his vehicle.
My vehicle came to a halt and I now see the embedded marine kneeling down to the man hit. I give my guys a sector of fire. I tell the medic with me to get out and follow me. For a moment I had tunnel vision. The ground below me sparking from rounds just missing me, the crack of the sound barrier being broken looming above me. Later my guys would tell me I looked like I was doing some Matrix moves between my vehicle and the down soldier. My focus at that point was to get to the down man and help him.
The soldier was between two vehicles. I looked at him and noticed it was an Iraqi. He was in bad shape. A sniper has shot him in the right cheek and the round came out the backside of his ear. He was making this monotone gurgle sound. I told the embedded Marine to load him in their vehicle and we’d escort them in. It took him a second to nod his head and agree with me; he looked like he was in shock. I tapped him and got his attention. He shook his head and asked what vehicle again. I told him his own.
My medic was working on him and I told him to get in their vehicle. I wish I never made that decision to this day. I ran back to my vehicle and told my driver to head back in. I called the incident up to my LT and he had them open the gate for our quick and fast arrival.
The vehicle carrying the patient drove past me. I look over and was like what the fuck? The fucking ING driver actually looked at me and waved. I could only imagine what I looked like. A hand set in my ear and the look of confusion. I told my driver to speed the fuck up so we could escort them in. Well we got to the cross over and had to yield to a tractor trailer that was barreling through. It was mid day and typically I would have had my gunner clear a path but there was way to much traffic and I didn’t want any of my guys to get hurt. So we slowed to let the tractor trailer pass and then drove on. The vehicle holding the Iraqi got to the check point before us. We caught up to them and were right behind them. We were approaching the turn off to head to our BAS (Battalion Aid Station, but the vehicle kept going straight. We had no radio contact with them and the way they were going was wrong. I’m thinking man this guy has been shot in the fucking head and that stupid fuck doesn’t know where he is going. All I could do was follow this vehicle; we were going as fast as we could to catch them. The feeling of helplessness and anger racing through my head. What felt like an eternity was more like 5 minutes as we went down the outskirts of the FOB. Finally the driver turns around. My medic realized it was taking too long and told him to turn around.
I had my gunner wave to them and to sign for them to follow us. We finally get on the proper route and make it to the BAS. We rush in and there must have been like 6 or so medics right in front of us. We came to a halt and got out. One medic came up to us and was yelling at us because we were going to fast in their area. I told her to fuck off and to get a stretcher. She quickly retreated among the crowd. It was a horrific scene. My medic had blood all over him as well as me. We got the guy loaded in and we went back to our vehicles. Some Captain came out and asked us in a tactful manner if we could move out. They were expecting some other wounded to come in any moment. The Captain said I had blood on my face and handed me a damp cloth. I put the cloth on my face and held it there for a moment. I took a deep breath and the taste of sweat and penny’s was in my mouth from the blood. I pulled the clothed away and the image of my face within it. I stared at it for a moment. A weird feeling came over me as I looked at it. I shrug it off and got in my vehicle.
Later on we found out that the soldier died. I sat in my room that night and I kept replaying the situation in my head. The if, ands and buts where racing through my mind. I was really beating myself up because I made the decision to load the guy in another vehicle and not mine. Would it of made a difference if the other vehicle didn’t take the wrong route. I guess it didn’t matter anymore because I would never know. All I know is someone died under my watch. His death still sticks with me today.
Your decision’s in war is yours alone. The hardest part is being able to accept those decisions later on.
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