A Warrior At Last

This evening, January 23rd, after being in this miserable country for over ten months, I finally have achieved a semblance of the martial glory that I aspired to from Day One. Yes, I have earned the prestigious title of "Door Kicker." This glorious appelation is reserved for those courageous and insane enough to lead the way on a raid. Officers rarely, if ever, are allowed by their troops to achieve this honor.

The evening started as any other, with me groggily rising from my sleeping bag and trudging through the mud over to the showers. The wind that has been whipping here the last few days threw the door to the trailer open, which I slammed to ensure that no one's eyes were astounded by my magnificence.

As I was drying off, I heard a voice, owned by another Captain who'd been in there when I'd arrived, ask, "Are your guys messing with you?"

"No."

"Then someone locked us in."

I took the news in stride as I made sure to assemble my resplendent coiffure. The other captain valiantly thumped on the door in his flip-flops, nearly slipping and falling, before I told him I'd take care of it once I'd put on the shoes that I'd worn over. I did advise him to set down one of the bathmats so that he wouldn't hurt himself as he vainly continued to free us.

Once garbed for battle, I blithely swept my inept colleage aside, and with my first probative strike, performed merely to ascertain the strength of the barrier, our incarceration ended. Aluminium and styrofoam burst forth as I strode valiantly through the remnants into the night, the proud bearer of that noble moniker.

A Former Soldier of Mine (Comments)

Below are thoughts from my comrades. As they sent these directly to me, I will not divulge their names. I pass their comments, not to push any agenda, but merely to help give those of you who haven't been here a more complete picture of how things are viewed by those that have lived, and are living, though it:

The first:

"I think I was at that firefight in Buhriz. It was my last day on the job. My platoon was sweeping a palm grove and doing house- to- house fighting. The 2-2 "Terminator" Platoon was doing firefights in the Palm Grove. They killed several attackers...all of whom were under the age of 16. Two 14- year olds were killed (with an RPG launcher in their hand mind you) and we captured an 11- year old boy. After intense questioning, he spilled his guts, admitting that a man in town will pay $50 and give a free RPG launcher to kids who want to fight Americans. It's a messed up world we live in. If it was a different fight from the one your NCO was in, well, this is a messed up country.

"I have fought back a hatred for this culture since day one...but the truth is we fight ignorance and poverty. These children see American movies and listen to American music...and are frustrated by their lack of means to acquire wealth. This by no means excuses their actions, but it provides some insight into their lives.

"Saddam kept his people poor and ignorant. That is the mess we are in today. It's his fault. Not Islam's. Not the U.S.'s, not anybody's but the former regime leadership's. Yeah, bad preachers are to blame, but talk to any semi-educated Iraqi and they will tell you they don't care about Shia or Sunni. They just want to live a peaceful life.

"It's not about Iraqis and it's not about religion. Those are just easy pidgeonholes for us to try and understand which people attack us and which ones won't (Shia are more pro American historically unless freaking Sadr says to do otherwise). Really, it has more to do with, as I said, ignorance and poverty. Of couse, the idea of Jihad (a private fight against sin) and belief in fate (or God's will) doesn't help any as they are corrupted easily. Still, poverty and ignorance.

"I really try not to hate these people, their lies, their willing blindness. This will all pass eventually. It's an uphill battle, but one that I hope will be viewed well in the future."

The Second:

"For me, it was the day after the Turn Over of Sovereignty, when all the attacks stopped. People decided that we weren't so bad, since we'd kept our word and actually looked like the good guys for a few days. The reason that it pissed me off was that it really conveyed to me how little the average guy trying to kill me cares.

"These are not 'Die Hard' guys committed to their cause; they are wishy-washy dickheads who will set their weapons down and live peacefully when they think we're not so bad. That would all sound good, except for the fact that it means that they also weren't all that sold on the fact that we were definitely evil and needed to be killed in the first place... yet they were still willing to lob mortars and rockets into my living area!

"They get stirred up and follow the urge of the moment, even if the urge of that moment means someone else dies! The fucking selfish children!"

A Former Soldier of Mine

One my way back to my hooch after work this morning, I glanced in one of the offices I was passing and caught sight of SGT Memmelsdorf, a soldier from my former platoon. I abruptly turned back so I could speak with him.

He was pleased to see me and we stepped out into the hallway so that we wouldn't interrupt the others in the office as we caught up. I had not seen SGT Memmelsdorf since we were in Germany, because he'd had to stay back at he outset for surgery to repair his knee. One of the first things he did, besides congratulating me on receiving promotion (note I didn't say "earning" promotion), was to thank me for helping him get the surgery.

For those of you that haven't been in the military, there is a rather infantile bias against people who are legitimately hurt. Admittedly, there are often times that soldiers will feign sickness or injury to get out of work, but the malice held towards them, unfortunately, is directed towards those that are truly in need of medical attention. My former Battery commander, a genius, as many of you are well aware, fought to make SGT Memmelsdorf and one of my Gun Chiefs deploy, though SGT Memmelsdorf had no ACL and the Gun Chief had shredded his rotator cuff, as well as other ligaments and tendons in his shoulder, because he "knew" they were just trying to get out of the deployment. His argument had been that if the soldiers had really been hurt, they would have tried to get the surgeries done long before.

That line of thinking, which is tragically common, is incredibly dense because the military medical system forces one to perpetually delay care since it seems one is required to be on death's door or about to lose an appendage before treatment will be administered. I was once ordered to go on a field exercise even when I'd passed blood, and, once I'd arrived at the German post where we were doing the exercises, I had to be taken to the medical center and ultimately to an internist.

At any rate, I had to explain to the Battery Commander that the two NCOs were not cowards trying to get out of a deployment, but rather tough men who'd continued to perform their jobs even when they'd had things seriously wrong with them. "They didn't fake the Xrays and MRIs," I told him. Nonetheless, he considered them cowardly. Fortunately, I was able to coordinate with the NCOs and the doctors and they were able to be taken care of in spite of the commander's resistance. The BC did try to have me rate the Gun Chief poorly on his efficiency report, which I refused to do. But enough of this digression...

SGT Memmelsdorf told me that he'd arrived in country in April but hadn't been put back in the same battery (as the BC still thought him a coward). He'd spent some time recuperating with the headquarters element, which he'd despised, before he'd been placed into one of the line Batteries. As most of you are well aware, with the exception of my Battery, the rest of the battalion has been performing an Infantry mission. SGT Memmelsdorf told me a little of how that had been for him.

During our conversation I made mention of the fact that I'd seen no combat in my time here. He was quick to point out, as I was quick to agree, that I didn't want to see combat. He spoke of how he not only hated the country but the Iraqis themselves, particularly after what he'd seen during a firefight. His patrol had been ambushed. This in and of itself wasn't what bothered him so much; he'd been in firefights before. No, what made it so that he "loathed" the Iraqis was that they were in a particularly drawn out fire fight, ("eleven hours", "RPGs", "Just like _Blackhawk Down_") which would have been silenced immediately had his vehicle's MK-19 40mm automatic grenade launcher not malfunctioned, and when they finally had killed their attackers and searched the palm groves where they'd been attacked, they discovered "dead twelve- year- olds with RPGs". That, for him, was the point where he decided the Iraqis were animals.

We spoke for a few more minutes before he had to get on a convoy to head back downtown.

An Attempt to Offend

Since it's been some time since I've been exceedingly arrogant, I thought it was high time that I passed along the reason for my unsurpassed mental faculties. There is actually a medically verifiable proof of it, you see. All it takes is one x-ray of my head to see that I have no upper sinuses. What this means (how this separates me from the rest of y'all merely intelligent) is that I have more brain where y'all have air in your heads. I know that means that I'm really slumming it when I have to deal with others, but, until there are more of my ilk (I really am thinking that I'm the acme of evolution here, that I should be reclassified Homo Sapiens Superior or Homo Sapiens Rembertus), what else can I do? Ah well, I just thought that I should pass this along since many of you had been wondering why it seems that I'm always right and you're always wrong. Now you know. It's medically impossible for y'all to win an argument with me. Don't even try.

P.S. Of course, some troglodyte could attempt to argue that I'm boneheaded instead...