Routinely our routines are routinely changed. Same goes for saying the same thing, over and over. Prison would be a vacation from this place someday's. Wake up, eat, patrol, sleep, gym and repeat as desired. It still feels like day one here sometimes. We've been doing this same old song and dance for what seems like so long. It hasn't been an easy assimilation to this life. Well the life has been easier to adjust to than the change of job status.
Walking through the chow hall today, looking at one POG, two POG, three, nothing has changed for them. Other than the lack of responsibility that they already do has been alleviated by tax payer money, and contractors who themselves barely work, into nothing. I need to be in a union. Right in the middle of this I'm finding it hard to write. It's hard to not sound like I'm complaining, but all I want to do is gripe. As sad and pathetic as the cooks and other soft skilled occupations in the Army have turned into a joke, ours is sadly the same.
Sure we still go out as much as we used to, and perhaps even a little bit more. Unfortunately our job has gone away from killing the enemy, or neutralizing the threat. It has turned into an ODA, Out Driving Around. We have lost all ideals of attack, and aggression. I don't think any of us want to kill anyone, but we are here to do precisely that when the time comes. However our chain of command doesn't seem to see that when that time comes that we should be allowed to execute our job. In that rare instance when we can be reduced to our primal skills of fighting for survival, can shine in an almost immaculately refined, efficient purpose of motion to neutralize threats to our own and others well being, that we will be stuck with our hands tied behind our backs.
Today might be the most productive day of our entire five months over here. I wish I could talk more about what we are doing later tonight, but operational security would be effected. We are going after a known bad guy, for the first time I've been here. And yet, we have so many factors, from how we are confined in operating, to how our chain of command lacks giving us the support we truly need. Earlier this deployment our scouts saw three men digging in a field at 3 in the morning with a positively identified weapon on there backs. The requested to engage, and were turned down. Told not even to try and apprehend these individuals. Then later on were humiliated by there higher ups, for being to big a pussy's to pull the trigger. I guess Lou should have called his own number on that, cause he's still on the bench.
It's amazing how much the Army, the 82nd, cares for if your boots are bloused, and you have a clean uniform. And how little they care about losing comrades. When you are saluting a fallen soldier, and someone tells you your sideburns are a little excessive, that's hard. Hard to take, hard to swallow, and you still have the nerve to ask me why I'm not reenlisting? We could get one of the guys responsible a fallen comrade tonight, and they still have the nerve to try and sink our ship. Tell us to not be on our toes, not looking for a fight. I guess American casualties are perfectly fine, but you kill and Iraqi, or rough him up a little, that could get on CNN, and ruin my chance for promotion. Sadly, Iraq is a place now where contractors get money, higher ranked individuals make there political moves for promotion and placement, and fellow Americans dies un-gloriously.
"Its about how you look, appearance is everything..." -the Voice of Experience
Walking through the chow hall today, looking at one POG, two POG, three, nothing has changed for them. Other than the lack of responsibility that they already do has been alleviated by tax payer money, and contractors who themselves barely work, into nothing. I need to be in a union. Right in the middle of this I'm finding it hard to write. It's hard to not sound like I'm complaining, but all I want to do is gripe. As sad and pathetic as the cooks and other soft skilled occupations in the Army have turned into a joke, ours is sadly the same.
Sure we still go out as much as we used to, and perhaps even a little bit more. Unfortunately our job has gone away from killing the enemy, or neutralizing the threat. It has turned into an ODA, Out Driving Around. We have lost all ideals of attack, and aggression. I don't think any of us want to kill anyone, but we are here to do precisely that when the time comes. However our chain of command doesn't seem to see that when that time comes that we should be allowed to execute our job. In that rare instance when we can be reduced to our primal skills of fighting for survival, can shine in an almost immaculately refined, efficient purpose of motion to neutralize threats to our own and others well being, that we will be stuck with our hands tied behind our backs.
Today might be the most productive day of our entire five months over here. I wish I could talk more about what we are doing later tonight, but operational security would be effected. We are going after a known bad guy, for the first time I've been here. And yet, we have so many factors, from how we are confined in operating, to how our chain of command lacks giving us the support we truly need. Earlier this deployment our scouts saw three men digging in a field at 3 in the morning with a positively identified weapon on there backs. The requested to engage, and were turned down. Told not even to try and apprehend these individuals. Then later on were humiliated by there higher ups, for being to big a pussy's to pull the trigger. I guess Lou should have called his own number on that, cause he's still on the bench.
It's amazing how much the Army, the 82nd, cares for if your boots are bloused, and you have a clean uniform. And how little they care about losing comrades. When you are saluting a fallen soldier, and someone tells you your sideburns are a little excessive, that's hard. Hard to take, hard to swallow, and you still have the nerve to ask me why I'm not reenlisting? We could get one of the guys responsible a fallen comrade tonight, and they still have the nerve to try and sink our ship. Tell us to not be on our toes, not looking for a fight. I guess American casualties are perfectly fine, but you kill and Iraqi, or rough him up a little, that could get on CNN, and ruin my chance for promotion. Sadly, Iraq is a place now where contractors get money, higher ranked individuals make there political moves for promotion and placement, and fellow Americans dies un-gloriously.
"Its about how you look, appearance is everything..." -the Voice of Experience
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