I got this from a friend...who got it from his friend.
May our troops stay strong and 'win".
The USMC in Afganistan.....
This provides a little insight into the modern Marine Corp fighting terrorists. This is from a Reconnaissance Marine currently in Afghanistan. He talks like a Marine in the field-and he is worthy of our thoughts and prayers as are all of our military deployed in some God-forsaken place.
~~
It's freezing here. I'm sitting on hard, cold dirt between rocks and shrubs at the base of the Hindu Kush mountains along the Dar 'yoi Pomir River watching a hole that leads to a tunnel that leads to a cave. Stake out, my friend, and no pizza delivery for thousands of miles.
I also glance at the area around my ass every ten to fifteen seconds to avoid another scorpion sting. I've actually given up battling the chiggers and sand fleas, but them scorpions give a jolt like a cattle prod. Hurts like a bastard.
The antidote tastes l ike transmission fluid but God bless the Marine Corps for the five vials of it in my pack.
The one truth the Taliban cannot escape is that, believe it or not, they are human beings, which means they have to eat food and drink water. That requires couriers and that's where an old bounty hunter like me comes in handy. I track the couriers, locate the tunnel entrances and storage facilities, type the info into the handheld, shoot the coordinates up to the satellite link that tells the air commanders where to drop the hardware, we bash some heads for a while, then I track and record the new movement.
It's all about intelligence. We haven't even brought in the snipers yet. These scurrying rats have no idea what they're in for. We are but days away from cutting off supply lines and allowing the eradication to begin.
I dream of bin Laden waking up t o find me standing over him with my boot on his throat as I spit a bloody ear into his face and plunge my nickel-plated Bowie knife through his frontal lobe. But you know me. I'm a romantic. I've said it before and Ill say it again: This country blows, man. It's not even a country. There are no roads, there's no infrastructure, there's no government. This is an inhospitable, rockpit, shithole ruled by eleventh century warring tribes. There are no jobs here like we know jobs.
Afghanistan offers two ways for a man to support his family: join the opium trade or join the army. That's it. Those are your options. Oh, I forgot, you can also live in a refugee camp and eat plum-sweetened, crushed beetle paste and squirt mud like a goose with stomach flu if that's your idea of a party. But the smell alone of those 'tent cities of the walking dead' is enough to hurl you into the poppy fields to cheerfully scrape bulbs for eighteen hours a day.
I've been living with these Tajiks and Uzbeks and Turkmen and even a couple of Pushtins for over a month and a half now and this much I can say for sure: These guys, all of em, are Huns. Actual, living Huns. They LIVE to fight. Its what they do. Its ALL they do.
They have no respect for anything, not for their families or for each other or for themselves. They claw at one another as a way of life. They play polo with dead calves and force their five-year-old sons into human cockfights to defend the family honor. Huns, roaming packs of savage, heartless beasts who feed on each others barbarism. Cavemen with AK
47's. Then again, maybe I'm just cranky.
I'm freezing my ass off on this stupid hill because my lap warmer is running out of juice and I can't recharge it until the sun comes up in a few hours.
Oh yeah! You like to write letters, right? Do me a favor, Bizarre. Write a letter to CNN and tell Wolf and Anderson and that awful, sneering, pompous Aaron Brown to stop calling the Taliban 'smart.' They are not smart. I suggest CNN invest in a dictionary because the word they are looking for is 'cunning.' The Taliban are cunning, like jackals and hyenas and wolverines. They are sneaky and ruthless and, when confronted, cowardly. They are hateful, malevolent parasites who create nothing and destroy everything else. Smart. Pfffftttt. Yeah, they're real smart.
They've spent their entire lives reading only one book (and not a very good one, as books go) and consider hygiene and indoor plumbing to be products of the devil. They're still figuring out how to work a Bic lighter. Talking to a Taliban warrior about improving his quality of life is like trying to teach an ape how to hold a pen; eventually he just gets frustrated and sticks you in the eye with it.
OK, enough. Snuffle will be up soon so I have to get back to my hole. Covering my tracks in the snow takes a lot of practice but I'm good at it. Please, I tell you and my fellow Americans to turn off the TV sets and move on with your lives.
The story line you are getting from CNN and other media news agencies is utter bullshit and designed not to deliver truth but rather to keep you glued to the screen through the commercials.
We've got this one under control. The worst thing you guys can do right now is sit around analyzing what we're doing over here because you have no idea what we're doing and, really, you don't want to know.
We are your military and we are doing what you sent us here to do.
You wanna help? Buy Bonds America .
Saucy Jack
Semper Fidelis
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We could not afford to buy new comic books so I inherited many of the gory war books that so appalled congress that they outlwed them in the 1950s. This reminds me of a redheaded soldier that was fighting in Korea. He was the subject of many comics and was so terribly crude. I loved it! LOL! Of course I support the troops, but this sounds like something made up. Sorry.
Why do you think it's made up?
I cannot really say exactly why, Pam. It just doesn't ring true to me. Not that it could not be true, this just does not sound right.
Sounds pretty realistic to me. They ain't havin a garden party over there y'know. from what I know of the Taliban it's pretty right on.
Apparently it has been around since 2001 and has made the rounds of a number of talk shows.
This site says it is false and gives a few words to support their contention.
The talk of buying bonds sounds really sounds out of date. I am not sure many young Americans, military or otherwise, know what a bond drive is.
But in the end, apparently no one really knows.
An uncensored version is at
http://www.snopes.com/rumors/freezing.asp
Do any of you remember the bond drive song? "Any bonds today, Any bonds today, Save up the most you can, Here comes the freedom man, Singing, Any bonds today" This isn't quite right. Bonnie, Jo, do you remember the words?
Any bonds today?
Any bonds today?
Rake up the most you can
Here comes the freedom man
Asking you to buy a share of freedom today.
I remembered. World War II bond rally song.
I didn't know if it was true or not. I just received it from a friend who is a vet.. who has friends that are Marine vets also.
They have some ugly scenarios that they live with every single day and night..and days..and nights........................
He told me that he got it from one of them.. I figured it was old because of the bonds.. but I didn't really care.
I thought it was pretty good..and I imagine more close to right than I ever want to experience.
I feel pretty fortunate being here all snug in middle country cowtown Kansas America.. sleeping peacefully in my bed...while I know there is hideous things going on overseas.
I didn't question whether it is a true actual letter.... I think if it hits home to the heart and has a lesson of learning and awareness attached to ..then it was put in print for the good..
JMO..........
I agree Teresa. maybe he heard his grandpa talkin about buyin bonds, who knows?
I don't think the point is if this letter is "real" or not, the point is the message that it conveys and there's not a doubt in my mind that the conditions our soldiers are living in every day is just like this and that the job they are doing is for you and you and you and me.
Thank you ... .and well said.
I gotta say, I agree Ma. In the big picture it doesn't matter if it was written by a "real" soldier or somebody writin what they figure a real soldier would say, if it was written 3 days ago or 50 or 60 years ago. From what I'v been told it sounds like a pretty right on depiction of the conditions soldiers are facin now and have faced in every war that was ever fought. So widen your minds people, sometimes you just gotta get the message instead of pickin apart the messenger.
If admiring the truth makes me narrow minded then I am guilty as charged. I know there are many heroic stories every day from soldiers and their families on both fronts as well as the home front. There is a reason there is a place in the library for fiction and a place for non-fiction. Fiction has its' place in our lives as it allows for free expression of art, ideologies, and the exploration of ourselves. However it should never be presented as truth, for that would sully the real heroes. As a girl, reading those comics about the soldier, I knew that it was fiction, that it was based on not truth but the glorification of war. That war is in fact is not mostly heroism, but back breaking heartbreaking every day grunt work with little glory is a real soldiers' story. Think again, the truth might just set you free!
oh geez, all I meant was as a general rule most of us can't see the forest for the trees. I saw nothin glorifyin in a guy talkin about gettin bit on the ass by scorpions and fightin people who are stuck in the dark ages, which is where the taliban is stuck. War is blood and dying and savagery. Screw it, never mind
I am kinda in a way sorta adopting and working with a 29 yr old Marine who has been gone for 4 years and is now home. He is going through horrendous nightmares and can't sleep. He has told me things that make me cry for what he and his comrades ( our freedom fighters) had to endure and battle every single day.
That letter is "mild"........................... so whether the "bible of snopes" ( and they are not always right, even though people think they are the almighty) says it is an actual letter written or not.. .........I can tell you that we better get on our knees every single day and send prayers and strength to our brave men and women in this war.
We need to get our men and women out of this war! :'( :'(
This is to all the men and women who are fighting for the United States If America..
Amen Teresa
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I just wanted to get the day over with and go down to Smokey's for a few cold ones.
Sneaking a look at my watch, I saw the time, 1655.
Five minutes to go before the cemetery gates are closed for the day.
Full dress was hot in the August sun. Oklahoma summertime was as bad as ever --
the heat and humidity at the same level -- both too high.
I saw the car pull into the drive, '69 or '70 model Cadillac Deville, looked factory-new.
It pulled into the parking lot at a snail's pace .
An old woman got out so slow I thought she was paralyzed.
She had a cane and a sheaf of flowers,
about four or five bunches as best I could tell.
I couldn't help myself.
The thought came unwanted, and left a slightly bitter taste:
"She's going to spend an hour, and for this old soldier my hip hurts like hell and
I'm ready to get out of here right now!"
But for this day my duty was to assist anyone coming in.
Kevin would lock the "In" gate and if I could hurry the old lady along ,
we might make the last half of happy hour at Smokey's.
I broke Post Attention.
My hip made gritty noises when I took the first step
and the pain went up a notch.
I must have made a real military sight; middle-aged man with a small pot-gut and half a limp,
in Marine Full Dress Uniform, which had lost its razor crease about 30 minutes
after I began the watch at the cemetery.
I stopped in front of her, halfway up the walk.
She looked up at me with an old woman's squint.
"Ma'am may I assist you in any way?"
She took long enough to answer.
"Yes, son. Can you carry these flowers?
I seem to be moving a tad slow these days."
"My pleasure Ma'am." Well, it wasn't too much of a lie.
She looked again.
"Marine, where were you stationed?"
" Vietnam , Ma'am.
Ground-pounder. '69 to '71."
She looked at me closer.
"Wounded in action, I see.
Well done, Marine. I'll be as quick as I can."
I lied a little bigger, "No hurry, Ma'am."
She smiled, and winked at me.
"Son, I'm 85-years old and I can tell a lie from a long way off.
Let's get this done.
Might be the last time I can do this.
My name's Joanne Wieserman, and I've a few Marines I'd like to see one more time."
"Yes, Ma'am. At your service."
She headed for the World War I section, stopping at a stone.
She picked one of the bunches out of my arm
and laid it on top of the stone.
She murmured something I couldn't quite make out.
The name on the marble was Donald S. Davidson, USMC, France 1918.
She turned away and made a straight line for the World War II section, stopping at one stone.
I saw a tear slowly tracking its way down her cheek.
She put a bunch on a stone; the name was
Stephen X. Davidson, USMC, 1943.
She went up the row a ways and laid another bunch on a stone,
Stanley J. Wieserman USMC , 1944.
She paused for a second,
"Two more, son, and we'll be done"
I almost didn't say anything, but, "Yes, Ma'am. Take your time."
She looked confused.
"Where's the Vietnam section, son? I seem to have lost my way."
I pointed with my chin. "That way, Ma'am."
"Oh!" she chuckled quietly.
"Son, me and old age ain't too friendly."
She headed down the walk I'd pointed at.
She stopped at a couple of stones before she found the ones she wanted.
She placed a bunch on Larry Wieserman USMC, 1968,
and the last on Darrel Wieserman USMC, 1970.
She stood there and murmured a few words I still couldn't make out.
"OK, son , I'm finished.
Get me back to my car and you can go home."
"Yes, Ma'am.
If I may ask, were those your kinfolk ?"
She paused.
"Yes, Donald Davidson was my father;
Stephen was my uncle;
Stanley was my husband;
Larry and Darrel were our sons.
All killed in action, all Marines."
She stopped, whether she had finished, or couldn't finish, I don't know.
She made her way to her car, slowly, and painfully.
I waited for a polite distance to come between us
and then double-timed it over to Kevin waiting by the car.
"Get to the "Out"-gate quick. I have something I've got to do."
Kevin started to say something but saw the look I gave him.
He broke the rules to get us there down the service road.
We beat her.
She hadn't made it around the rotunda yet.
"Kevin, stand to attention next to the gate post.
Follow my lead."
I humped it across the drive to the other post.
When the Cadillac came puttering around from the hedges
and began the short straight traverse to the gate,
I called in my best gunny's voice:
"TehenHut! Present Haaaarms!"
I have to hand it to Kevin, he never blinked an eye; full dress attention
and a salute that would make his DI proud.
She drove through that gate
with two old worn-out soldiers giving her a send off she deserved,
for service rendered to her country,
and for knowing Duty, Honor and Sacrifice.
I am not sure, but I think I saw a salute returned from that Cadillac.
Instead of "The End".... just think of "Taps".
As a final thought on my part, let me share a favorite prayer:
"Lord, keep our servicemen and women safe,
whether they serve at home or overseas.
Hold them in Your loving hands
and protect them as they protect us."
Let's all keep those currently serving
and those who have gone before, in our thoughts.
They are the reason for the many freedoms we enjoy.
"In God We Trust"
Sorry about your monitor, it made mine blurry too! :'(
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Pam, that is beautiful. such a large message in such a small picture.
Teresa and Pam those brought tears to my eyes!!!