TonyD
One Shot One Maggie's Drawers
The following was just forwarded to me by my old SSgt. I thought I would share.
This is written by a Navy Commander at a port in Kuwait ... No
commentary needed, the 3-minute read below says more than a 20-page
article could about our warriors and the constitution of our men.
Where do we get such men?
**********************************
"They are so damn young"
I was going to the gym tonight (really just a huge tent with weights and
treadmills), and we had heard that one of the MEUs (Marine Exp Units)
that had come out of service in the "triangle" was redeploying (leaving
country). We saw their convoy roll in to the Kuwait Naval Base as the
desert sun was setting.
I have never seen anything like this. Trucks and humvees that looked
like they had just come through a shredder. Their equipment was full of
shrapnel blast holes, and missing entire major pieces that you could
tell had been blasted by IEDs. These kids looked bad too! I mean, sunken
eyes, thin as rails, and that 1000-yd. stare they talk about after
direct combat. Made me pretty damn embarrassed to be a "rear area
warrior".
All people could do was stop in their tracks and stare... and feel like
me...like I wanted to bow my head in reverence. A Marine Captain
stationed with me, was standing next to me, also headed to the gym. He
said, "Part of 1st Brigade Combat Team, 8th Marines, sir. Took the
heaviest losses of any single unit up north as part of Task Force
Danger, sir."
As the convoy rolled up, all of us watching just slowly crept toward
these kids as they dismounted the Hummers and 5-tons. Of course, we were
all shiny and clean compared to these warriors. This kids looked like
they had just crawled from Iraq. I had my security badge and id around
my neck, and started to help them unload some of their duffle bags.
A crusty Gunny came up to me and said "sir, you don't have to do
that..." I said, "Gunny... yes I do..." They all looked like they were
in high school, or younger!! All held themselves sharply and confident,
despite the extreme fatigue you could tell they had endured. "You guys
out of the triangle?" I asked. "Yes, sir". 14 months, and twice into the
grinder, sir" (both fights for Fallujah).
All I could do was throw my arm around their shoulders and say "thanks
Marine, for taking the fight to the bad guys...we love you man".
I looked at these young kids, not one of them complaining or showing
signs of anything but focus, and good humor. 'Sir, they got ice cream at
the DFAC, sir?" "I haven't had real ice cream since we got here..." They
continued to unload... and after I had done my handshakes and shoulder
hugs, the Captain and I looked at each other ....
They want ice cream, we'll get them ice cream. You see, a squid O-5 and
a focused Marine O-3 can get just about anything, even if the mess is
closed. Needless to say, we raided the closed DFAC (mess tent), much to
the chagrin of one very pissed off Mess Sergeant and grabbed boxes of
ice cream sandwiches (as many as we could carry), and hustled back to
the convoy. I felt like Santa Claus. "Thank you, sir.." again and again
from each trooper, as we tossed up the bars to the guys in the trucks.
I'm thinkin', "Son, what the hell are you thanking me for? I can't thank
you enough."
And they are so damned young ... I will sleep well, knowing they are
watching my back tonight."
This is written by a Navy Commander at a port in Kuwait ... No
commentary needed, the 3-minute read below says more than a 20-page
article could about our warriors and the constitution of our men.
Where do we get such men?
**********************************
"They are so damn young"
I was going to the gym tonight (really just a huge tent with weights and
treadmills), and we had heard that one of the MEUs (Marine Exp Units)
that had come out of service in the "triangle" was redeploying (leaving
country). We saw their convoy roll in to the Kuwait Naval Base as the
desert sun was setting.
I have never seen anything like this. Trucks and humvees that looked
like they had just come through a shredder. Their equipment was full of
shrapnel blast holes, and missing entire major pieces that you could
tell had been blasted by IEDs. These kids looked bad too! I mean, sunken
eyes, thin as rails, and that 1000-yd. stare they talk about after
direct combat. Made me pretty damn embarrassed to be a "rear area
warrior".
All people could do was stop in their tracks and stare... and feel like
me...like I wanted to bow my head in reverence. A Marine Captain
stationed with me, was standing next to me, also headed to the gym. He
said, "Part of 1st Brigade Combat Team, 8th Marines, sir. Took the
heaviest losses of any single unit up north as part of Task Force
Danger, sir."
As the convoy rolled up, all of us watching just slowly crept toward
these kids as they dismounted the Hummers and 5-tons. Of course, we were
all shiny and clean compared to these warriors. This kids looked like
they had just crawled from Iraq. I had my security badge and id around
my neck, and started to help them unload some of their duffle bags.
A crusty Gunny came up to me and said "sir, you don't have to do
that..." I said, "Gunny... yes I do..." They all looked like they were
in high school, or younger!! All held themselves sharply and confident,
despite the extreme fatigue you could tell they had endured. "You guys
out of the triangle?" I asked. "Yes, sir". 14 months, and twice into the
grinder, sir" (both fights for Fallujah).
All I could do was throw my arm around their shoulders and say "thanks
Marine, for taking the fight to the bad guys...we love you man".
I looked at these young kids, not one of them complaining or showing
signs of anything but focus, and good humor. 'Sir, they got ice cream at
the DFAC, sir?" "I haven't had real ice cream since we got here..." They
continued to unload... and after I had done my handshakes and shoulder
hugs, the Captain and I looked at each other ....
They want ice cream, we'll get them ice cream. You see, a squid O-5 and
a focused Marine O-3 can get just about anything, even if the mess is
closed. Needless to say, we raided the closed DFAC (mess tent), much to
the chagrin of one very pissed off Mess Sergeant and grabbed boxes of
ice cream sandwiches (as many as we could carry), and hustled back to
the convoy. I felt like Santa Claus. "Thank you, sir.." again and again
from each trooper, as we tossed up the bars to the guys in the trucks.
I'm thinkin', "Son, what the hell are you thanking me for? I can't thank
you enough."
And they are so damned young ... I will sleep well, knowing they are
watching my back tonight."
