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A2Keltainen

By A2Keltainen
in Krig och Konflikter Idag

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A2Keltainen Förvaltare

A2Keltainen

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Jag håller på och läser mig igen bloggen från början i september 2003. Några smakprov från det jag läst hittills:

 

"I should mention before you start thinking I'm a whiner something very important: bitching is the only truly inalienable right of the soldier. I love the Army and I love my country. But that doesn't mean I have to enjoy the taste of horseshit. There are many axiomatic truths I will share with you from time to time in regards to soldiering. The principle of bitching is an excellent one to start with."

 

"I can't tell you how many times in my life I've been driving down the street and encountered other drivers so irritating that I just want to ram into them or run off them the road. Anyone who drives feels this way at one time or another. My personal fantasy was to mount a computer-controlled machinegun on the roof of my car and program some kind of tracking system where I could lock the gun's aiming system onto the annoying driver's car and lay a few hundred rounds of 7.62mm full metal jacket into it. Oddly enough, this fantasy may be coming true to a certain extent very soon."

 

"The guy with the M240 on top [of the Humvee] is is the true firepower. [...] For us to be effective, this guy has to be a straight-up killer. I'm not sure who my gunner will be, but I pray it's Ray. He's about one step away from being the next world-class mass murderer, but a guy I know that will unflinchingly know who and when to shoot."

 

"The point I am trying to make is that the way things look, I'll be driving a vehicle in Iraq that any boy who every watched GI Joe could only dream of. Yes, yes, I know, I shouldn't compare combat with cartoons, but seriously, for just one moment let's look at this for what it is: driving around in a car with a friggin' machine gun mounted on top."

 

"For Halloween, all soldiers E-4 and below were given a chance to be free from all details for a month as the prize for a costume contest. Considering that we're at one of the coldest posts in America and haven't even been issued cold weather boots yet, scraping up enough materials to put together any kind of costume turned out to be no small feat, despite the reward (no cleaning latrines, no sweeping, no mopping, etc. for a month). There were the usual entries: First Sergeant impersonation, Company Commander impersonation, guy dressed up in nothing buy a black ski mask, black boxer briefs and combat boots (Bring out the Gimp!), and so forth. And then there was Ray. Covered from stem to stern in camouflage paint (light green on the body, dark green as lipstick and eyeshadow) and wearing nothing but a field expedient string bikini made from bandanas and 550 cord. Public nudity? Close e-fucking-nough. Physical pain/discomfort? Ray: "Damn, it's balls cold out here. And this g-string is kicking my ass!""

 

"Ray continues to make us proud. Last night, the battalion commander, recently back from a trip to Iraq, gave us a brialliantly verbose speech complete with "I won't lie. There will be casualties." We all knew what he really wanted to do was quote Gunnery Sergeant Hartman and say, "Most of you will go to Vietnam. Some of you will not come back." Anyway, right around the part of the monologue, toward the end, just before soldiers start asking stupid questions, he starts telling us how we need to be sensitive to the Iraqis and the painful period the people of that country are going through. Ray, like the dedicatedly amoral sniper that he is yells out, "SIR, GIVE ME AN M-24, SOME RAMON NOODLES AND PLENTY OF AMMO AND EVERYTHING WILL BE ALRIGHT!!!" God, I wish I had that kind of clarity."

 

:)

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A2Keltainen Förvaltare

A2Keltainen

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För er som är för lata för att orka läsa igenom hela bloggen, så kommer här ytterligare några, i mina ögon, läsvärda stycken ur den:

 

"Several nights earlier I saw my first Aurora Borealis. It was amazing. The waves of light sometimes filled as much as half the sky. I watched it for an hour. Now I had seen a lunar eclipse. The sky was perfectly clear and once the moon was gone, the stars were more brilliant than I've ever seen them. I wondered if there were any visible pulsars. No light or air pollution from the city to obscure their view from earth, it became almost suffocating for me to try to absorb the overwhelming enormousness of space, to look into the Milky Way and think that I was looking into my own galaxy, a near cipher in the expanse. I started to feel ridiculous, meaningless even, standing there wearing an unwieldy amount of gear, the culmination of human civilization's technology, all centered on industrialized death."

 

"I can honestly say that half the gear I wear I own. For all the homeland security missions we've done, most of us bought our own gear (pistol belt, suspenders, ammo pouches, canteens and covers, etc.) as to not look like complete dirtbags wearing all the raggedy Vietnam-era gear that we've been issued. By the time you add in all the knives and crap that soldiers love to buy, the Army is getting a well outfitted infantryman on the cheap. Hell, Ray even has a friggin' tomahawk. "It's so I can split niggaz skulls open if I have to.", he told me completely deadpan and genuinely. Speaking of Ray...

 

Some major news regarding my squad. Chris is no longer our squad leader. He and Ray are now the company sniper team and will be attached directly to our commander. Chris was reluctant to leave the squad (not that he had a choice), but seems to be very excited about his new job. Ray is on cloud nine and has spent the last few days stripping fiber after fiber out of sections of burlap to make his ghillie suit. To watch him work is fascinating. Completely absorbed in what he's doing, he'll cut bizarre polygonal shapes from a sleeping mat then sew and glue them together to form pads for his elbow and knees in the soon-to-be-born ghillie suit-to-end-all-ghillie suits. If Uncle Sam could ever get his act together and start paying me my damn housing allowance, I could put together some money and buy a digital camera and start adding images to these stories.

 

I don't have a desire to kill anyone (for killing's sake), nor do I wish death upon anyone. Hell, I'm against the death penalty. But I have to say that I truly hope Ray is afforded the opportunity to do what he seems to be built to do."

 

"To be perfectly honest, I truly needed a large block of time where I could masturbate freely. When you're a single guy, autoeroticism is an enormous and regimented part of your life. Living in a tiny room with three other dudes can really put a kink in your self-love life. And God bless free internet porn. Add a broadband internet connection and you have a true Information Age malady: attention deficit disorder porn addiction."

 

"Hearing the stewardess (yeah, that's right, I said stewardess. If they were male, they'd be stewards, dammit!) say, "Please remove all bolts from your weapons. Please place all squad automatic weapons in the overheard compartments and place rifles on the floor or pointed barrel-down by your side please." was priceless."

 

"Hey local politicians, you want to do something for me? Keep your remarks short at the ceremony. We don't know you and the longer you talk the longer we have to stand at attention. If I don't get to see my family, I'll live, it's not that big of a deal. However, my family may feel differently. They may really want to see me before I go into combat. If I get blown the f*** up, what do I care? I'll be dead. But if I do get transformed into a fine pink mist because I was on point for an IED patrol as punishment for not clearing my weapon properly before entering a military building, it may draw the ire of my family that they didn't get to see me that last time because I was being punished for breaking my 11pm curfew. [...] My commander is a prosecutor in real life. The guy is a pitbull. He is competent, solid and ferocious. He loves Hemmingway and Melville. His vocabulary exceeds mine. I love him as my commander. Right now I feel that if he wanted to make a big deal about this, we'd be fucked. This guy prosecutes organized crime in New York City for a living. When I truthfully say that I don't remember shit because I was completely blotto that night, I really mean I don't remember shit. But this isn't necessarily to my advantage. If my commander decided to get involved, he could place me at the scene of the crime wearing a white hood like my other two-dozen Klansmen with my boot on the throat of some mentally retarded nun, clubbing a baby seal with one hand and igniting a cross with the other."

 

"A little bit of all that money that our government is overpaying to Halliburton will be coming to us soon when Kellogg Brown & Root visit us and build us some stuff, including a "dining hall". Running water will never happen, but we'd be stoked to just get some port-o-johns. I NEVER thought I'd be looking forward to shitting in a fucking port-o-john. Today I burned shit. Have you ever burned shit? It sizzles. You pour diesel into it, mix it up into a gassy shitty emulsion then you burn it and stir it. And the processed-food-laden turds soldiers squeeze out take forever to burn. Strangely, I kinda had fun doing it. When I was done I had shit-ashes in my teeth. And it smells funny, like funky grilled steak."

 

"In the old west, gunslingers went everywhere strapped because they never knew when they'd be in their next gunfight. There is nothing different about being in Iraq. It's an oddly exhilarating way to live."

 

"This place is so harsh and backwards and perpetually stuck in the fucking stone ages in most ways, but you just have to love it for it. There are no shining new strip malls or housing development here, no Super Target, no Starbucks, no Jiffy Lube. It's full of people that will die twenty years earlier than Americans and who can't help but understand that life is survival first and owning a Playstation second. Although there's nothing special about people that live in poverty and squalor, there's something genuine about these people and their life that I can't help but admire. I wish to god I spoke Arabic because I have a thousand questions I want to ask them. Tyler Durden would love Iraq."

 

"While we were there, a 1st ID guy shot himself in the foot. This was the first time I'd seen a wounded soldier firsthand. It was a little disturbing to see one of my own on the ground, bleeding. Then I got over it. We waited about 30 seconds before we started making fun of the guy."

 

"While the payroll thing was going on inside, outside as we pulled security, kids mobbed us annoyingly. They try to sell us high quality knives and sunglasses that have fallen off Halliburton trucks or were stolen from other soldiers. I bought two DVDs with the name "Ballone" handwritten on them in black pen. Then they bug us to give them stuff. Their English is getting better too. "Mister, Mister, gimme gimme." I got fed up with it and was telling one kid, "All you kids know how to say, is 'gimme this, gimme that.'" to which he replied, "Gimme shit. You my bitch." I was nonplussed. Another kid pointed at my chest, saying "what's this?". Thinking he was asking me about my ammunition, I looked down and he flipped my nose. So I tried out some of my grappling moves we learned at Fort Drum on him. This didn't phase them so I just kicked a few kids in the shins and threw rocks at another. Any ideas I ever had of coming back to Iraq to help with education were killed on the spot. What these kids need is a good spanking and to go to bed with no dinner. Wait, they already get that every day. What the hell am I doing messing with kids? I thought the infantry was all about running around in the woods, trying to kill enemy soldiers, not being made the bitch of a band of unbathed sandal-wearing eight-year-olds. When I was discussing this with one of the guys in my platoon later that night, he said, "That was your first time in town? Ha ha! I don't mess around with the kids anymore. When we go into town, we take sling shots and paint balls. f u c k those kids. This one kid I hit was wearing a man-dress and was pissed, he thought I ruined it. He was yelling, 'f u c k you! You my bitch! Suck my cock!', but once we showed him it was paint that easily washed off, he was all, 'You my friend!'. Fucking kids.""

 

"Trying to subtly segue into a dialogue about anything even remotely philosophical with an infantry platoon is, unfortunately, an exercise in futulity."

 

"Anyway, something I always surprise myself with is how I am able to simultaneously feel both bummed out and excited everytime we get called to go on a mission. Most times I'll be geekin' out on my laptop, engrossed in what I'm doing, and while I work I'll be planning out in the back of my head how I'm going to allot my time to the various tasks I want to accomplish-- weapon cleaning, laundry, reading, responding to email, writing, editing photographs, showering-- then someone will come in and say, "Get dressed! We have a mission. Team leaders and above, op order in fifteen mikes." Then there will be that initial feeling of terrible disappointment knowing that how I will be spending my time is now dictated by the caprice of a mission-- that reaction of laziness denied. I'll think to myself, "Dammit, I don't want to have to do anything right now. I was totally chillaxing, now I have to put on all my shit and go raid some stupid house that won't even have anything in it, get all sweaty, and then go to bed late as hell. Ugh." But not one second later the child-like soldier excitement will kick in. "f u c k yeah! I think it's my team's turn again to do the initial entry. Wait, maybe I can be on the breech team this time. Hell yes! I'm gonna smash the f u c k outta that door! It's going to be awesome! What if we make contact? Oh god, this could be so cool!""

 

"I think I would make a crappy dictator. I wouldn't get anything done. I would totally squander my time fucking off all day at my ridiculous palace. Think of the parties you could throw! God, I have to stop thinking about this. The more I do, the more I lose all sense of zen-contentment about living in a swamp. I wanted to strangle all the undeserving pogues that infested this place. And the girls. So many girls. I'm sure people have written about this a thousand times already, but the number of women in combat in Iraq has got to be unprecidented. Then Dan told me about some graffitti he read on the wall in one of the shitters. It read, "All Army girls: How does it feel knowing that when you go back home you'll be ugly again?" The cruelty of this remark gave me respite for all the rooms with marble floors upon which I'll never tread barefooted belonging to female soldiers I'll never know."

 

"All the guys who got left back home from our unit have now been absorbed into the 42nd Infantry Division (another unit with an incredible history). A lot of guys are not excited about this because the unit patch for the 42nd is a rainbow. The very same patch the guy in the Village People had on his uniform incidentally, only he wore his improperly. A rainbow was used for the patch since the entire unit was originally an all-Irish militia once upon a time, and later the patch became half a rainbow to signify how half the soldiers got wiped out in a single battle. The 42nd has fought in every major conflict since the revolution. Their history is awesome. But this is all lost on today's soldiers. Guys will literally leave the Army because of a patch. "I'm not gonna wear that fag patch!" was a common response to the news that we'd be folding into the 42nd."

 

"I suppose I lack the ability to take anything seriously because everything we do just seems so... well... funny. It's not to say that what we do isn't important, we do many good and sometimes necessary and important things, it's just sometimes when you stop and think about it and look at all the photographs, like I do everytime I write, I notice how humorous everything is. I started my day by going through the remains of an air defense artillery site we bombed, sifting through piles of unexploded ordnance, picking up explosive fuses to prevent someone from coming along and picking them up-- they're explosive you know!"

 

"Everywhere we go, we get mobbed with kids. They are impossible to get rid of. What makes it really complicated is they commonly have really cool shit to sell sometimes. In this photo Matt is buying a Benchmade automatic, a knife that sells for $180 in the PX, here he is buying it for thirty bucks. They mob us, annoy and insult us to no end, they have stolen knives, pens, and sunglasses right off our vests, they have stolen cameras and GPS devices out of Humvees, and they basically make it impossible for us to do our jobs. Later in the day I would whack one of these kids in the shin hard with an Asp baton in an attempt to get him to go away, but it wouldn't work. His response was basically, "Dude, that really hurt. Why'd you do that? I'm not gonna leave you alone." I got in a staring contest with another kid-- and lost. Just like the detainees we commonly deal with, they know how to posture, they have the macho front routine down pat, they even know how to take a beating, but they will flip into abject apology mode in an instant if it suits their purposes. If they're not shamelessly begging us for food and water, they're spitting at us. I'm no sociologist, but this behavior seems endemic of Arab culture."

 

"The same kids always know where to find us. They are insufferable. They now know elaborate curses in both English and Spanish, most involving them pimping out your sister and mother while you are sucking a dick because you are a piece of shit."

 

"The children of Iraq have a very special message for you: "f u c k You! Gimme water, Mister! Gimme you sunglasses! You my bitch!""

 

"To be totally serious, I really like these pictures because they are of people who we didn't kill. Something about having pictures of people who you almost killed seems really weird to me, but kinda cool in way. I'm just happy they're not dead."

 

"Being the tremendous geek that I am, the only time I'm not in physical contact with my laptop is when I'm holding my rifle, and this short trip was no exception. But this was the first time I had to travel with my laptop and I was a little worried that some of the others in my tent may not see the humor in the enormous "I {heart} Dead Civilians" sticker I had on it. Once I got over my last shred of political-correctness, I was able to enjoy an excellent film about an angry midget, a cheerful Cuban, and a mental woman."

 

Här finns mer relevant information om bloggen:

 

http://www.recognizant.com/myiraq/

 

Edit:

 

SoldFs forumsmotor censurerar ordet "f u c k" utan mellanslag. Däremot så censurerar det inte en del böjningar av ordet.

Edited by A2Keltainen
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Fu Gson Furir

Fu Gson

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Jag är ingen "blog erfaren" människa, men utgår man från att allt man läser är sant eller hur gör man??

 

Varierar det från hur/vart/vem man läser??

 

:huh:

Klart man gör, allt som skrivs på internet är ju sant.... eller? :blink:

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A2Keltainen Förvaltare

A2Keltainen

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Jag är ingen "blog erfaren" människa, men utgår man från att allt man läser är sant eller hur gör man??

 

Varierar det från hur/vart/vem man läser??

 

:blink:

Jag kan bara svara för mig själv, men för min del så beror det på vem skribenten och ämnet är, kombinerat med en allmän skepticism. Just den här bloggen läste jag på ungefär samma sätt som jag ser Hollywoodfilmer som är "based on a true story", d.v.s. att det förmodligen finns ett korn sanning i det han skriver, men att han samtidigt mycket väl kan ha tagit sig rejäla "konstnärliga friheter" med skriverierna. Mitt läsande fyllde därför i det här fallet främst ett underhållningssyfte.

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Guest Andrew

Guest Andrew

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OT:

Jag är inte heller någon större blog erfaren människa , men vore det inte trevligare om du iforts. postade länkar i dina inlägg A2 , så slipper vi ögna igenom metervis här inne på soldf-forumet och kan lättare fokusera på "disskussen" kring det aktuella ämnet ?

 

Måhända att det bara är jag som är lite skeptisk och ser risken att vi snart har folk som till höger & vänster börja skapa trådar där man använder cut n paste som ett standard förfarande?

 

Ett sådant forum blir dödstrist , o-personligt och genom-jobbigt att försöka föra vettiga disskutioner i .....

 

Anledningen att detta inte skickades via PM till dig A2 är att fler av oss medlemmar här på forumet kanske behöver en tankeställare angående just detta med att sitta och köra massiva cut n paste ifrån utomstående källor.

 

Personligen ser jag gärna att man gör som du gjorde i ditt första inlägg i denna tråden. Låt folk läsa källtexterna från "orginal siten" , så kan vi hålla oss till att disskutera det här inne istället.

 

Slut OT // Andy

Edited by Andrew
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A2Keltainen Förvaltare

A2Keltainen

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Andrew; anledningen till att jag postade klipp från bloggen var, som jag även skrev ovan, att en del kanske inte orkar läsa igenom hela bloggen och att dessa då ändå kunde få ta del av en "godbitar" från den. Jag utgick ifrån att de som läser hela bloggen lät bli att läsa urklippen. Men du har helt klart en poäng i att det kan bli något grötiga trådar när man postar så här långa stycken. Tack för påpekandet.

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Guest J-Star

Guest J-Star

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Jag är ingen "blog erfaren" människa, men utgår man från att allt man läser är sant eller hur gör man??

 

Varierar det från hur/vart/vem man läser??

 

:blink:

1) Allting man läser är obekräftat tills bevisat annorlunda.

2) Angående bevisens riktighet, se punkt 1.

 

/J

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Jesper86 Menig 3

Jesper86

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Kanske inte så kul, men det låter så himla dumt att jag skrattade!

 

"Notice the Nissan emblem on the truck's grill. Car emblems are cool."

 

Har inte ett smack med texten att göra.. han kanske har en bil emblem fetish :P

 

Här är han med WV emblemet från bilbomben haha

 

vw_hood01.jpg

Edited by Jesper86
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