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Location: Ewa Beach, HI, United States

I got out of the Army in October 2007, and went back to being a Paramedic. I am now working as an RN in Case Management.

Saturday, November 12, 2005

Allah's Miscreant Children

The eleventh hour, of the eleventh day of the eleventh month 1918. Armistice Day. That is why today is Veteran’s Day. I reckon I am a veteran now. Some would say a war veteran, some would say not. Depends on your perspective. I certainly wasn’t cowering in a trench for four years. Two months, and I return to the land of the counterfeit free and the home of the pseudo-brave. My generation doesn’t want to be named. I dub thee the What Happened? Generation. To be quite honest with you, the Iraqi Army sucks, and they are worth about as much as a crack-addicted prostitute’s testimony in Grand Jury. We have let them perform on their own now as we are leaving them, and only train for two hours a day and go on one patrol a day with them, and must force them to do that. It is quite like herding cats. There is a SGM who stands at intersections in the Camp now and directs people to put on their seat belts. Kind of funny to me, the seat belt doesn’t fit around my battle gear. Which leads me to mention that there are many soldiers here who have never left the Green Zone, or IZ (international zone), and have completely forgotten we are in Iraq…these are the folks the Combat Action Badge was created for. They have it sewn to their uniforms and proudly display it every day. It is a funny little device, looks like a miniature Combat Infantry Badge but it has a bayonet and grenade where the rifle goes. If they hear a boom, they qualify for it. Ahh, I wish I could spit on each and every one of them. If you can’t tell, I am bitter. I had a wonderful post ready, lost the connection to the internet, and it went away. Well, my voracious reader, I couldn’t stay away, I had to return as soon as I got an interface and a semi-sentient one and zero machine to broadcast my pirate signal to the Matrix. Sorry, I know this is the worst writing you have seen from me, maybe I’ll keep a diary or something for flashes of insight to share with you. But, then again, blogging doesn’t pay the bills, nor does it advance my career. If you see me in the US, say hey, and we’ll have a beer or ten. Unless you bore me, and then we’ll still have a few if you’re buying. Oh, by the way, Ramadan is over, and I didn't see one Muslim follwing Sharia.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Lopez said...

Do you ever shut up? I mean, really, other than when your mouth is pressed against a beer bottle, cheeks sucked in like the soft spot on an infant's melon. But, I suppose I would have to agree with Mr. Mills. The worse thing about this war is that noone will understand what the cheese you're talking about or why it is you're driving at ten miles an hour,in the middle of the road, with your forehead smeered against the side window, searching for the phantom IED that threatens to blow the skirt off the twenty year old co-ed as you stalk, err drive, past the campus. I hate people. I mean it. The only satisfaction I have is to watch them grow fat and boring and remind them of the fact when I say "Hey, you. Didn't recognize you there inside that 38" waist and 29" pants." Fuck, go ahead and keep talking, maybe one of us may make some sense one day.

SPC Lopez (happy boy)

8:21 AM  
Blogger Audrey said...

Chad,
So glad you're writing again. I missed ya. When you get back I will buy you a beer or ten. Stay safe out there.

4:08 AM  

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