Getting Settled

These blogs are combed by the insurgents and their spineless “terror techies” around the globe for information about soldiers and bases in Iraq that will help the insurgents attack us. If you’ve never heard of a terror techie (I’m sure they have other names), just think Jordanian or Saudi male, 17 – 30 years old. Skinny with glasses. Erectile dysfunction. Wealthy family. Sits on the computer all day, telling people how to make bombs. Many of them have “jihad names” that translate into something like: Jimmy’s Father, from San Francisco. I know it sounds strange. You have to be a terrorist to understand it. I guess to them it sounds something like “The Terminator.” But anyway, they collect pictures that soldiers post on the internet and then send them to their terrorist pals. Well you are not going to see or read any of that stuff on my blog. All of those pictures will be posted when this war is over. Yes, that means a long time from now. So to all the terror techies, sitting there in front of the computer drinking your Coke, you’ll have to look somewhere else. Hey, here’s an idea: log off the net and come to Iraq, and I’ll show you what a real Marine ass kicking feels like.

Since that’s out of the way, I will just say that my job involves training the new Iraqi Army and police forces. Actually, I have several different jobs. The most important one involves antiterrorism and force protection (i.e., the protection of soldiers, civilian workers, and Iraqis). This involves coming up with a plan to defend our base with cement bunkers, security patrols, and various weapons. Of all of the 5 jobs I have now, it is the most fun, and the most “Marine-like.” I work with people from all four American services—Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines. I also work with a whole bunch of US civilian contractors and civilians from other countries like Pakistan, the Philippines, and Bangladesh, and of course, Iraq. They are all good people that work very hard. You most certainly will not see pictures of my Iraqi friends on this website. From time to time, Iraqis that leave our base end up being killed because the bad guys find out that they work here. It is extremely sad when this happens. These people take incredible risks by coming to work here. To stay as safe as possible, they hardly ever go home. You will not see their pictures, but I will definitely tell you about them.

It is a cliché now that you can’t really understand what’s going on here unless you have actually been here. But unfortunately for you, it is true. Journalists give you a certain glimpse, but most people know that journalists have to take an angle when they present the news. That could be good. That could also mean they dissect the truth and arrange it in packages that taken by themselves are flat-out lies. A lot of them have a political agenda, though they may be in self-denial about it. Others want to sell papers or get promoted. Shit, maybe I have an angle, too. I don't know. But my aim here is just to call it as I see it. So at least you will have that. I want you to feel what it is like here, at least for a Marine Captain in this little part of the war. I am certainly not in heavy combat. I’m not kicking in doors or fighting for my life every day. But I do deal with the Iraqis quite a bit. And I have been getting around the battlefield to see what’s going on. So I hope that I’ll get the chance to write about some things that aren’t in the papers.

Life here on my base isn’t too bad. Not as cushy as on the American side of the base, but in many ways things here are better. I have my own small trailer that I share with another soldier. (We are completely separated, albeit by a paper-thin wall.) I have a small television and refrigerator in my room, and free internet service. The food here is pretty good. There is a gym. I really can’t ask for much more. Back in WWII the only way to contact your loved ones was by writing a letter. These took weeks to get the front lines. In Vietnam, same thing. But here in Iraq, I can use the web cam to talk to my kids. Though I've been gone three months, my two-year old son actually sort of knows who I am. (I don’t think he understands what a “Daddy” really is, though. To him, it is probably just the guy on the computer screen that makes funny faces... I'm "The Daddy Show.")

Well, I'm pretty much in a routine now. The days are long and hot and dusty here. The job is tedious. So every once in awhile, I get with some of the civilian contractors and other Marines, and we grab some guns and some ammunition, and we go shoot. It’s very manly, and very fun, and it keeps me from punching people in the face. So I like it. Enjoy the pictures.