it is a quiet and dark night.the glow of the monitor is the only thing keeping me from taking out my NVGs(helmet flashlight).the faint squirms of jacobs are heard as he tries to clear a jam on his minimi(printer).i look around for movements as i try to stave off boredom in this rack shack of a FOB(office).the air is dry and cold,reminds me of fort bragg .there are still a couple of people awake,i guess praying 5 times a day dont make them tired huh?the familiar crackle sound of a cheap radio is heard.'raptor 2-1,this is raptor 2 ACTUAL.reports of movement at north bound sector,confirm the sightings.over'..'this is raptor 2-1,negative on the movement sir.we dont see crap here,should we advance deeper?'..'raptor 2-1,return to base,i repeat return to base.we dont need you guys killing some hajjis taking a dump,over'

as we were heading back the quiet night was suddenly disturbed by a loud 'BANG' and the smell of sulfur pollutes the fresh air

(will return when i finish watching How i met your mother)

part 2
'elements of 2 PPCLI will deploy in February rotation to support 1 PPCLI'

finally
2nd battalion will see some action but the word going around is that
only 1 company will be deployed.whoever goes i will pray for their
safety .

as the days gone by there was word that B coy is going
and that means i will be going.for a 25 year old Master Corporal who has
never gone to war it was heart wrenching and exciting.the battalion
commander confirmed the rumor 2 days later and we prepared for
pre-deployment training.i told my dad right away but i couldnt tell my
mom,i know it would just worry her.for the next 2 months we did
extensive war games and classes to learn basic persian and pashto.we
familiarized with the ROE and did some 'win hearts and minds'
scenarios.i thought it was mostly pointless

****FEBRUARY 2006****

finally
the time to deploy has come.my dad was there to say goodbye,he didnt
say much.he just shook my hand and said be safe.i always had a cold
relationship with my dad,we rarely talked and it was the first time i
saw him in months.the majority of the company would be flying in C-130s
while i flew with the LAVs in C-17s

the C17 wasnt as loud as
c-130s are but i couldnt sleep.i kept thinking how i would handle the
pressure of war.i was not in a leadership position but i knew i needed
to step up to the plate if the sergeant and his 2 I/C were down.i
finally fell asleep after hearing ramblings from a USAF crew chief

Part 3

tracers fills the air.shit looks like the 4th of
july.'CONTACT!!',i shouted to my section.me and half of the section were
exposed in the open.I ordered the machine gunner to provide covering
fire,the C9 is an ass to carry but it lay down fire like a whore. ta ta
ta ta ta ta.the LAV commander was screaming to us to get back.he
couldnt open fire because he cant identify friendly from the enemy.we
ran as fast as we could,mind that we typically carried 40 kg of gear.we
thought we ran for 10 minutes eventhough the spacing was maybe only 100
meters.finally the sweet sound of the chain gun was heard.25 mike mike
rounds raining death,HELL YEAHH..we requested artillery but was denied
as it could kill 'kids and innocent bystanders'.F*cking fobbit
officers.the platoon was on the other side of the city and couldnt come
to us,we were basically F'ed.

i heard a strange language on the
radio,it was somebody talking english with a dick in his mouth.it was
the dutch.they brought some AH64s with them.the enemy was retreating and
fell out of the range of our rifles.we couldnt give chase as it might
frighten the civilians

butterbar:

sergeant,!i received word there is a sniper team in that barn.take your section and scout the area.fireteams 50 meter spread

me:

sir,thats open terrain.shouldnt we wait for the rest of the platoon and our vehicles?this is going against our SOP.

butterbar:

sergeant,i think i know more about war than you do.
after all,i went to college

me:

what ever you say butterbar

********************

keep in mind,my buddy loves his car and even named it

a
buddy went on deployment and asked to look out for his wife .his car had
troubles so i took it to the on base mechanic.it was pretty banged up

not so long after i decided to visit his wife,it was a monday so i wore full ceremonial dress

she was sobbing when she opened the door and asked 'when are they bringing him home?'

i
thought she was talking about the car and said 'not for a week at
least,he's basically in pieces and some parts are still missing' .'i
doubt you'll recognize it after this'

she said she wanted to be
alone and i left.the next day my command started getting pissy because i
told a dependant her husband was KIA when in fact he was not

Ooops,my bad

another one,got this in an email


Infantrymen have a pride and arrogance that most civilians don't understand and don't like. Even soldiers who aren't infantrymen don't understand. The pride doesn't exist because we have a job that's physically impressive. It certainly doesn't exist because it takes a higher level of intelligence to perform our duties.

It's sad and I hate to admit it, but any college student or high school grad can physically do what we do. It's not THAT demanding and doesn't take a physical anomaly. Nobody will ever be able to compare us to professional athletes or fitness models. And it doesn't take a very high IQ to read off serial numbers, pack bags according to a packing list, or know that incoming bullets have the right of way.

The pride of the infantryman comes not from knowing that he's doing a job that others can't, but that he's doing a job that others simply won't. Many infantrymen haven't seen a lot of combat. While that may sound ideal to the civilian or non-infant ry soldier, it pains the grunt. We signed up to spit in the face of danger. To walk the line between life and death and live to do it again -or not. To come to terms with our own mortality and let others try to take our life instead of yours. We have raised our hands and said, "Take me, Canada. I am willing to kill for you. I am willing to sacrifice my limbs for you. I will come back to Canada scarred and disfigured for you. I will be the first to die for you." That's why the infantryman carries himself with pride and arrogance. He's aware that the country has lost respect for him.

To many he's a bloodthirsty animal. To others he's too uneducated and stupid to get a regular job or go to college. Only he knows the truth. While there are few in Canada who claim to have respect for him, the infantryman returns from war with less fanfare than a first down in a high school football game. Yes, people hang up their "Support Our Troops" ribbons and on occasion thank us for our service. But in their eyes the infantryman can detect pity and shame; not respect. Consider this: How excited would you be to meet the average infantryman? Now compare that with how excited you'd be to meet a famous actor or professional sports player and you will find that you, too, are guilty of placing the wrong people on a pedestal. You wouldn't be able to tell me how many soldiers died in the war last month, but you'd damn sure be able to tell me if one of the actors from Twilight died. Yet the infantryman doesn't complain about that. He continues to do his job; to volunteer his life for you, all while being paid less in four years than Tom Brady makes in one game. It's a job most civilians don't understand, don't envy, and don't respect. That is why we have pride for the infantry"