Last second solutions to impossible problems…welcome to my world.

I don’t even know where to begin, so much has happened since my last post. The Al Sadeer Hotel was hit by a VBIED, and we had soldiers on scene, within 20 minutes. Let my tell you what CNN, Fox, (Piss off MSNBC) failed to tell you. The bomb was about 2000lbs, in a big industrial type truck. It was driven by an asshole and had assholes in it shooting people who tried to get in the way. Few innocents were killed; however 1 is to many as far as I’m concerned. The truck was able to breech the defenses at the hotel. Which are now post facto quadrupled. The truck detonated in a quad type area, by this I mean it detonated in the middle of a parking area flanked on all sides by buildings. The asshole driving the VBIED (Who I hope is in hell suffering in unimaginable agony!) detonated the bomb. So, keep this in mind explosions are not like they are on TV. There was no massive fire ball, what there was, was this enormous pressure wave that shattered windows on every building facing the blast, and there were windows shattered as far as 5 blocks away. The pressure wave is caused by the immediate displacement of gas (Oxygen) due to the violent chemical change of a solid (the explosives) to a gas (BOOM!) So, when this happens the gases released by the VBIED move at about mach 3 away from the point of detonation. Wrecking everything in its path, (See photo album marked VBIED). I talked to several people at the hotel I saw that had noticeable stitches and scars on their faces, one gentleman I’ll call Jazz was scared and burned on the left side of his face. I asked him what happened. His story was amazing! He was just coming out of the shower in his room when the bomb detonated. He was thrown out of the door of his room (oh, every door in the hotel from the 3rd floor to the 7th was blown off its hinge. This gentleman was blown out of the door. Now let me “clue you in to some knowledge” about explosions. There is the initial push of displaced oxygen. However my fine young friends, once this air is displaces there exists a vacuum that sucks everything in its path back towards the point of detonation. So Jazz was about to smack into the door across the hall when low and behold, all of a sudden he was being sucked back into his room. And towards a now gaping hole where a window was just 2 seconds before. The only thing that saved him was smacking into his desk that fell out of the window in his place. Now, as I am sure you have all seen on the news the Chevy SUVs in Iraq that are painted black and white. These vehicles are heavily armored and weigh more than an armored HMMWV. The force of the blast was so powerful that the vehicles parked around the corner from the original blast all had their frames warped by the pressure wave, all had their nearly 1 ¼ inch armoured windows shattered, and doors popped off of the frame. Metal was literally bent and snapped as easily as a warm knife moves through butter. Walking this ground was simply awe inspiring. I will not publish any photos taken that show human remains for one should not speak ill of the dead. I saw clumps of flesh, and pictures of various body parts. In an explosion the force of this unleashed hell is so powerful it literally blew the flesh from the driver, and his face lay wrinkled in a neat little pile, as if it were a used washcloth, discarded in the men’s room. The man that was firing the machine gun was blown up and over the hotel, his body hit the ground with such force it was barely recognizable as what could once have been called human. He was barely a man to begin with, so I imagine what was left after he landed was of equal or greater use than while he lived. I hope that this man too has found himself in eternal agony. Once again, fuck him if he can’t take a joke (long story not for here or now…). My friend “Luther Mohammed's’s” wife gave birth to a little girl. He sent me pictures of this little one, this precious new life. I must say I was so overcome with happiness, and so eternally grateful that she was born healthy and unaware of the ugliness in this world, born unaware of hate, and completely oblivious of Iraq. I found myself weeping almost uncontrollably. I had to leave the office, and go for a walk. I attempted to find some corner of this place where I could be alone. The only place I could find to be alone, was a port-a-potty. I sat there alone for nearly 15 minutes crying like a child. wondering what in the hell was wrong with me? When my eyes finally dried, I stood up and at my eye level was the ever present mixture of “shit-house” poetry, most notably. Were these; 1)“Fuck Iraq” 2)”Fuck 3rd ID (3rd Infantry Division) 3)”Fuck the Army” Not exactly my sentiments but I suppose this small display of ones 1st ammendment rights proves democracy is alive and well, indeed!  My friends Aaron and Tina god bless you! I look forward to meeting the newest edition to your family, I love her already!!! Yesterday (13FEB05) I went out on a patrol to survey a newly acquired area for my battalion to operate in, what should have been a 6 hour day took nearly 10. It started off on a light note, I was putting on all of my gear prior to the convoy briefing. (I am trying a new kit configuration) any way I am quite top heavy, and the HMMWV was parked about a size 7 ¾ away from the curb. I wear an 8, and well I got wedged between the curb and the tire, well gravity is indeed a harsh mistress and I fell straight back, and landed with a large THUD! Well, shit! Everyone was looking over at me so what could I do, I shouted as loud as I could with the wind knocked right the hell out of me; “That shits funny, I don’t care who you are!!!” The laughter was loud and continuous. It is often a good thing to be able to laugh at yourself, and to appreciate it when you can laugh. There is damn little that is funny here so we took the opportunity to do so. Once we left, the gate we were definitely in the food chain (again), and all joking ceased, we were ready to kill everything we saw, and in just a few hours we would almost have to. I went to a power plant in Baghdad that was operating at 50%, and the stacks that were operating at about 110% of their original capability. It looked as if it could blow at any moment, there were people milling about all over the place. The Battalion Commander pointed out a place in a field where insurgents have fired multiple RPG rounds at the Iraqi Police Station that is assigned to protect the power plant. About half a kilometer from the firing point is yet another Mosque from where it is said the insurgents store their ammunition. The reason why I mention this is because this Mosque fires anti-American rhetoric almost daily like it was part of the religion. On this subject we had to go knock on the door of another Mosque, as a courtesy call if you will. Well there were new dudes in this one, and they never heard of the guy we were looking for. Hmmmm… So, we were polite as usual, (despite the creeps in the media portraying us as anti Muslim racist murderers. The guy we were talking to seemed in a real hurry to get rid of us, so we took the hit and prepared to leave. While we were walking slowly and deliberately down the street I noticed that we were being watched from about 2 different points, and from one point a Muja could easily snap launch an RPG. So I paused, and when I did he ducked back behind cover. We danced this little dance about 3 times, then I leveled my rifle at the corner at about what I thought to be neck level. He popped around the corner again, and I gave him the universal Iraqi hand gesture for STOP! And to my utter surprise he actually did. I was looking at my first target in my rifle scope for over a decade. My throat got really dry, I could hear the beating of my heart, and literally feel the blood getting cold in my veins. I actually clicked off safe and was about one-one-millionth of a second away from dropping this man. He actually smiled at me, he must have been ready to go, but it was not his day to die nor was it my day to take him. I raised my head from the scope, and we both slowly backed out of “the kill box” From that moment on, I felt highly introspective, and didn’t really want to talk to anyone. I wanted to go home. Fuck I hate this damn country, I know we are doing great things here but the feelings I have must be what my Dad’s generation felt 30 years ago in “The Nam”. Why? Why do these assholes murder innocents? Why!?!?! I hate it hear and I can’t wait to never be in Iraq again. I have what Murph calls Iraqnaphobia: the irrational fear of having to return to or get extended in Iraq. I laugh about that, but it is again a nervous laugh. Why? When we finally got back to the FOB, I was asleep the second we rolled past the clearing barrels. Yesterday wasn’t day either. When I got back to the office I walked to my desk and slumped, the acrid stench of sweat pouring off of me. I greedily drank the last Dr Pepper (and I’d do it again!). I looked at a picture of DJ, and removed “the letter” from under it and placed it back in my drawer. The last letter from a husband to his wife would not be sent by MAJ K today. No, not today… I hope that I am not sounding to down, I am not I am just “troubled” by my encounter yesterday. Make no mistake I would have dropped that man and forgotten about him before he hit the ground, but the thought crept into my mind, are you ready to kill this man who may not be your enemy? Well shit… Not today. Now for those of you who read MAJ K’s blog, you are familiar with this next rant. We can’t put these little “terrorist hunting” permits on our HMMWV’s as it may offend the ASSHOLES we are trying to kill! For those of you who have seen my favorite movie of all time “Apocalypse Now” this will ring familiar. “We drop fire on these people, but we can’t write fuck on our aeroplanes!” This is what is going on here. We have become so damned PC that we don’t kill the ASSHOLES anymore, we reduce their numbers, we don’t destroy, we neutralize. And so on and so forth. I have a logic bomb here; If a terrorist is Killed and we say “reduced” is the fucker any less dead? Or do we just feel better about it because it seems more sterile, and we can more easily detach from our actions. Well, I have been sent here to, and lets be clear find out where they are and gather actionable intel so that we can better KILL, WASTE, DESTROY, DROP, CAP, FRAG, GREASE, POP… Well you get the picture, I didn’t come here by choice. I didn’t volunteer (per se) to come and get shot at, to face IEDs, VBIEDs, Snipers (term again used loosely, save for the Chechen's those assholes can shoot). Yet here I am, fighting the verbage war as to not offend the very assholes trying to kill us. Fighting the real war, against Mujas so bitter, and sick with hate they have lost nearly all reason. Echelons above common sense are making decisions that could get us killed. We accept this, echelons above common sense bind our hands, and tie one leg to our ass, and tell us to run, we accept this. Echelons above common sense… One day in the next 48 months I will be a US Congressman, I will be on the House Select Committee on Intelligence and I will be on the Veterans Affairs Committee. By this, and before god I swear, the shit that goes on in war stays with a man (person). It grinds at you and changes you. Sometimes for the worse, but sometimes for the better, the men and women here in uniform sacrificing deserve better. The Reserve and Guardsman here deserve better. Our families at home deserve better. The price of wearing this uniform is high; sometimes it is far too high… Enjoy the pics… Semper In Adsumus, RDC

Comments

[Subsunk]

RDC,

You are doing good things. You need to hear that. We are proud of the way you and your unit have been conducting themselves. I know it seems stupidly PC to worry about the names or figures you use to represent the terrorists over there, but it is probably a small price to pay to keep from irritating those who are on the fence.

You never know what will piss some folks off. I just want you to know that we are proud of you for putting up with so much crap while trying to bring peace to Iraq. They need it. We need it. And we need you guys to succeed in doing it.

Keep after it. Your duty demands no less, and it is a worthy endeavor. You are saving my kids and grandkids from a fate worse than death in the future (tyranny and slavery). If you can't help us be safe, who can?

I'm proud of you, son. Your picture is on the piano. Press on, and come home safe when the job is done.

Subsunk

[britt]

my son was also in the bathroom when the bomb hit. he sent me some pictures and I thank God he was not hurt. I just found this site. keep writing I know that he would never tell me everything that happens I will just be glad when he can come home

[Toni]

Well, guess you can't be too much of a cad to have such sweet little girl writing you comments. Wow - that description about the bombing of the hotel scares the bejeebers out of me. I don't think any "reporter" has written a story like that to describe a bombing. I hope you are a Congressman soon, we need more like you in political life. Thanks for your service.

[AFSister]

Hey Currie-
Glad to see you post again! Even more glad my care package reached you. You just never know about the mail or convoys getting blown up.

Keep your wits about you, man...love the pics.

[Annika Mundy]

Uncle Rusten,
My mom tells me that I am a blessed girl to have the honor of friends and family sacrificing themselves so that little girls being born in Iraq can have the same liberties as I do here in the US. Thank you for helping in giving them a chance to grow free too. I can't wait to meet you, until then be careful!
~Little Miss Annika Mundy