June 21, 2001

Almost three whole months in and I have yet to write a word until now. Part of that was being busy, being tired,being lazy and just not knowing what to write. I guess to start I can compare and contrast to my first combat tour.

To Start I guess the area I'm in is a lot like where I was in Iraq. It's hot. It's hot. And it's hot.Like seriously it's hot as hell here. Iraq most days in the summer would break 130 and 140. This is consistently around 110 to 120 but the humidity is unbelievable.

That's really where the similarities end. Surrounding us on all sides are unbelievable mountains that are begging to be conquered but also promise danger and the possibilities of deadly encounters with the unforeseen. They sit there taunting me, knowing that I may never get my chance to challenge them ... to challenge myself. I long for my chance to take them on and defy the greatness that they hold as they look down upon me. Maybe It's a fools desire but my heart wants my turn to ascend their cliffs and stand atop them. I know the unknown danger they hold and I long to see what I can do against it.

Unfortunately decision makers with much more rank than I have sit in the way of my crazy ambitions. Some them are men that have shown they have very little clue as to how real soldiers desire to fight. We are constantly told what we are going to wear to battle and how it must be worn. 'A soldier must have all of their proper
protective equipment on if they are going to fight. It's how they will stay safe while winning battles.' Really? These fucktards need to stop worrying less about safety in a war zone and more about finding and killing the enemy. We know this is fucking dangerous. We understand their is a possibility of getting hurt. That is why it is called a war isn't it, because there is some danger involved? A soldier must wear his full uniform. Sleeves must be down so that a soldier doesn't get sunburn on his arms (which helps hold in heat and thus increases the soldiers core temperature and helps his dehydrate faster). He must have on his bullet proof vest with front, back and side ballistic plates (okay that armor is important but the side plates seem a little much at times and rub the fuck out of your hip bones). Throw in the 'eye protection' which is a fancy way of saying sunglasses. But they think this
is one of the most important protective equipment which probably means the Veterans Administration is reporting more cases of eye care cases at their hospitals. So they make every soldier suffer by wearing sunglasses off their ballistic approved sheet. The things look retarded, like some NASCAR fan sitting in the bleachers of a race event. They are so hell bent on making us wear the ones from the approved list that it makes me wonder what kind of deal the Army has with the companies on it. The things are even that impressive ... I have smashed them in a door. So much for ballistic approved. And they are great at getting scratched up within a day after you start to wear them. That is great for the vision. Especially the clear ones for night time when they halo the fuck out of any lights you look at making it impossible to see anything. All I do now is carry the fucking things in my pocket and pull them out just for those occasions that one of the intelligent decision makers happen to be nearby. My Oakley Flak
Jacket sunglasses work just as fucking well thank you very much.
Gloves. Gloves. Really? It may be important to have gloves with you as a soldier. I will concede to
that point. But requiring me to wear them at all times when out on mission? Shouldn't that be my own personal
preference? I'm the one who is working with my hands. Let me make the decision on whether or not I'm covering
them up with a piece of equipment that is taking away some of my dexterity that I enjoy when using them. I can't
even access the shit in my own fucking pockets without allotting five extra minutes to open the buttons while
wearing gloves.
Does all this shit make me a 'more effective fighting force?' Does this help me? If you looked at the way
we stumbled around with all this gear on it would remind you of that kid in your neighborhood, while you were
growing up, whose mom spent 30 minutes bundling him up before he went out to play in the snow and when he got out
he could barely move and he just stood around looking miserable.
Dear Army, You are that overbearing mother. We the fighting soldier is the overprotected kid who can
barely move and therefore is miserable as fuck. Especially when you over bundle us in 120 degree heat and cause us
to dehydrate. And really, how the hell are we expected to do anything effectively when you immobilize us with your
bullshit protective gear. We get it. There are risks in war. Anyone who didn't know that going in is a complete
fucking idiot ... much like your decision makers. Please let us be men again and give us more leeway on how we gear
up to fight.

Like any good NCO I had my flip out moment and butted heads with my Platoon Sergeant the other day. I have
a very different leadership style than much of my superiors and that bugs them. I'm sorry! I'm not a fucking
carbon copy of you! Fucking deal with it. I know my job and I know my soldiers and I get results and complete my
missions so back off my fucking leadership style. I think for the most part they think that you have to be a
complete asshole to get through to people and to be tough. I think each soldier individually responds to different
ways you approach them. Therefore you have to know how to deal with each one differently. Every now and then I'll
make sure I do something fearlessly that they might not have done and by my own actions prove myself tough without
having to remind them verbally. When on patrol last week and commanding the first vehicle in our convoy we pulled
up to a market place in our AO that is usually chock full of people and a lot of them appear unsavory. It's a
place we try to avoid stopping at. That day however the road was full of traffic and none of it appeared that it
would move quickly for us. So I hopped out of the truck by myself and started clearing vehicles and people from
our route so we could continue our mission. After walking through about a thousand Afghans in front of some
armored vehicles I jumped back and and my 'Joes' had the same shocked look that much of the Afghans in the market
did. All I did was point and tell my driver "Go!" Later I heard them talking about the incident as if I had just
parted the Red Sea in front of them. To me it was a simple task that I had no second thoughts about. To them it
was a pretty cool sight.
Part of being a good leader is to do things fearlessly. To live fearlessly gives you the ability to live
with less restrictions than the next guy and more confidently and that's the kind of man soldiers want to follow
into combat. Not one who makes combat decisions from behind a desk. You have to take care of them and you have to
legitimately care about their problems no matter how retarded they may seem. If it's important to them you have to
find a way to make it be important to you. You have to know when to talk sternly and when to yell but also when to
talk with compassion. I always hear people say that you don't need to praise someone for just doing their job but
when you live in a stressful environment, away from your family, where everything you know is half a world away
sometimes telling a young soldier they did their job well can make a big difference in their stress level and
confidence. Show them you care and that you fight for them and they will fight well for you and complete the
mission. And that is what the Army is all about.

The Long and Winding Road

The journey through Afghanistan hasn't come easy. For one this is my first post since being here. Access to a computer for anything more than short and basic tasks hasn't come easy. And most of my time after mission is usually spent sleeping or unwinding other ways. But everynow and then I get a chance to write on my own laptop ... hopefully I'll be smart enough to remember to bring them and load them up next time. Usually if it doesn't involve my soldiers or my mission my mind tends to file it back in the 'Not worth a crap' section.

So today's post will be short. And hopefully I'll get more of these soon. But I can tell you that the Pashtun people and the country of Afghanistan are nothing like I expected. It's strange and wonderful and beautiful in it's chaos. And the people are so hospitable and willing to do anything to be good hosts.

So don't believe everything you read about this land .... unless it's from me.

My Children

The families have received the news in person. Every year most units have a family day. It's suppose to be a day of unity. Everybody brings in their family so that they can meet the other soldiers and the families of other soldiers. They get a chance to build their own network ... their own support group they can talk to when we deploy. They need to see who their sons and daughters have for leaders. They need to see who their husbands and wives have supporting them and watching their back.

Ours was a particularly rainy day. They rented a pavilion at the park and had a picnic. Almost as soon as we began to set up the rain came. It poured. Nice way to start the day. While the families were all huddled underneath the pavilion trying to stay dry our commander decided to give them all a speech. I know there are things she's expected to say. I understand she has to let them know she will look out for us. I'm not all about being called one of 'her children'. "I now have (insert number) children". Hmmm ... It wasn't wrong to say. But I really think we could have told the families something better. I'm really not trying to bash my CO here. But if I have to talk to the families of my squad I'm not calling anyone my children. These are well trained men and women. When we have our orders and we are finally fighting overseas hopefully they will be ready to kill the enemy. Children don't kill. My men and women, my soldiers will when necessary. I don't have children. I have Soldiers.

Since hearing about our upcoming deployment its been hard to keep focus on anything else. The rest of the world has the volume turned down. It's not that I don't have motivation. But I find that everyday life lacks the same meaning as fighting a war for your country and trying to rid the world of terrorists. Try finding the same importance in filing paperwork. Think about it for a second .... yeah ... I knew you couldn't either.

So what is our next move. All of our plans for life up until we deploy have to now have a lifespan contingent on our ship date. It makes life difficult. Who do I have? I question if my relationship has longevity enough to survive a year apart. You always read love stories about soldiers who come home from war and find their relationship torn apart. It does very little to inspire faith. But you also get a few stories that inspire hope. Particularly for me the Odyssey. Odysseus fights ten years in the Trojan war and suffers another ten years of trials before finally returning home to his wife. All the while she spends twenty years fighting off suitors in the constant belief that he is alive and will return to her. In the end their love is reunited. I want to believe I can be that man and that I can have that patience ... I hope that I've found the woman to be patient for me.

It seems to me that way too many soldiers tell themselves that their life goes on hold for the period that they are away fighting. They need to prepare themselves for the opposite. Everything will fast forward a year. When we return everything will have advanced a year. Nobody stops living their life just because we go to protect them. These are men and women with full lives and full schedules. They will have to go through a fight overseas and a readjustment upon returning home. Wouldn't it be nice if we actually were just her children. Then all we'd have to worry about is getting back outside and playing.

"Some men just want to watch the world burn."

"Some men just want to watch the world burn."

There is no reasoning with terrorists. Our leaders may have one idea of why we are there. They may tell the world that we are combating terrorism. That we are going to rid the world of evil. They're excellent at feeding CNN the bullshit they are suppose to be saying. The American people generally don't believe any of it. They think we are there for countless other reasons. I think I've heard it all. Bush is finishing what his Daddy started. Maybe ... but what about Obama? We are there for oil. That's nice ... why are we still paying $3 a gallon? We are just imperialistic. That could be true .... but we could have found a cheaper way to be imperialistic and probably a lot closer to home. What are their real intentions? We may never know. Ten years from now we'll still be there. Ten years from now we'll have had two more presidents who will feed us more of the same.

There are however two truths. First, terrorists are evil men who only wish to kill and strike fear into the innocent people of the world. Second, regardless of our leaders intentions, we go to ensure the innocent can live in peace and can walk around free of fear. We go to be the light where there is darkness. Most of these people we go to protect are too afraid to take a stand and do it for themselves. We are a privileged nation. Our Forefathers taught us from the very beginning that we must stand up for what is right. Regardless of our leaders intentions for this war our purpose as soldiers is always clear: Obey our orders and support and defend the Constitution of the United States of America. Sometimes it is a hard life. But it is simple. It's what we were chosen to do.

The Adventure Begins

Preparation for war begins long before one ever faces battle. It starts with the leader and ends with the leader. You must make sure that your soldiers have everything they need before the first shot is fired. Some days you prep them mentally. Some days you prep them physically. Some days you prep them tangibly. You give them the mindset they need to kill, the physical tools to fight and the equipment to do it with. A lot of times you don't even know what the hell the training you're ordered to give has to do with your mission. But since you mission changes all the time you have to prepare for that too. Train. Rinse. Repeat. Everything gets beat into your skull until you don't think ... you react. It's the way of war. The warrior that's better at reacting than thinking lives. His enemy dies.

Our journey has begun. We knew that deployment was coming again. We just didn't know where. Now we do. Unofficially. And we know the date. Unofficially. But at least we know who we're fighting with. Unofficially. They tell us so that we know. But officially we know nothing. They tell us nothing is set in stone because at any time it could all change and until we are sitting with a weapon in our hand, a round in the chamber and Afghanistan soil beneath our boot it's not official. Eight months or so from now that will be the reality.

I am a squad leader. I have 12 men under me. I say men. Others will say boys. This is not far from the truth. A good portion of them are 19 and 20. They were thinking about their summer vacation or losing their virginity not long ago. Now they're wondering what strange world they are about to be put into. I'm thinking about how to explain to their parents that a 27 year old who looks even younger is leading them on missions to kill a dangerous enemy that threatens our nation. I'll try to convince them that they are ready to do this. Both the parents and my soldiers. But that starts with training, training, and then, after it's been drilled into their heads over and over, more training.