Northern Disclosure

Peter and his Eggs!

It is Easter and for the first time in many years I have felt its impact on my life. Of course there's the bit about Jesus getting sold out for a couple for silver pieces, dying for mankind then rising but I am talking about the great kid believe in Peter Cotton tail hooking up all the kids with some booty, preferably cadbury's.

Peter was dressed a little different than in my past. He wore a white over coat and white chef's hat and spoke broken English with a name tag written in sharpie. Thats right he was a cook at a chow hall in Ramadi. I smiled and ordered a couple of "sunny side up" and he didn't flinch and cooked them with the briskness with out breaking that precious golden yoke. I couldn't believe it, for almost a year now I have approached the eggs to order grill at various places and ordered some sunny side ups hoping to get them but every time I got rejected because of the ban on fresh eggs thanks to that pesky Avian Bird Flu. I looked around for the hidden camera and Ed McMahonnon but it was reality. I am not ashamed to admit I liked the remaining yoke from my plastic plate.

I would like to clear something up real quick. In my last post I read it again and realized that perhaps I didn't complete my point. I am not complaining about the boys getting something to look at and put in the spank bank but I would prefer that the girls had something more to offer than an undeserving celebrity attitude and a 10 sec photo op. They are were too stuck up to even talk to the guys and acted like they were providing a greater service than the boys fighting for them. Nothing more than that.

Boarding Pass Reality

I first want to acknowledge the fact that I have an extremely hot wife so take everything I am about to say in stride.
Here the other day I saw the American Dream in action, a group of "ladies" under the banner of Sweet Hearts for Soldiers. Now I must say that these young ladies were very attractive and did indeed remind me of home and what awaits me there. However usually when some women show up around here there is a purpose to their visit like entertaining us. This usually is a cover up or facade for the guys to just sit there and drool as they develop deposits for the spank bank but these gals showed up with no talents or abilities other than being photogenic.

Thats right, they sat there offering our troops and young heroes nothing more than the chance to get a picture taken with a Hot Chick. This to me seems like a small step backward rather than forward. In the past they brought out Playboy Bunnies and pin up girls out to the troops to motivate them and remind us what we are fighting for.

I love my Family and I too have a little daughter who undoubtably will grow up to be a hottie because her mother and family are all beautiful. I hope that she understands that there is a lot more to ife than being good looking though. Its true it might open some doors but staying in the room requires some ability. I also hope that her Daddy is not over here fighting for her to be good looking or right to have breast augmentation.

I fight for my family's right to vote, not to walk down the street looking for a suicide bomber, and the freedom to go to school for whatever their little hearts desire. I do not fight to support the right for some chick to wear a push up bra and demand to be treated better than everyone else. The only superstars here are the guys that tighten their laces and ruck up. If you want your picture taken with someone try Santa! Remember ladies you are just a boarding pass away from being average again.

Telephonic Journalism the new Saigon news technique

When I was a boy my Dad used to tell me don't believe everything you hear, read or see. Again, I find myself reminded of his wisdom. Here in the last couple days I have been reading, hearing and watching the complete and utter failure in journalism. The other day the boys of Bad Voo Doo and I were on a mission in southern Iraq and where only a short distance from what has been reported as a travesty, tragedy and another example of the reckless US Army.

While assisting a bomb blast that struck a civilian bus that was in the vicinity of the convoy immediately to our front I did not see a single news reporter or media person. By the time I got to my destination the reports were already online about the casualties and conduct of the US Forces. Pray tell where were the media getting their information?

In an account printed in the coveted Washington Post, the reporter quoted the bus driver and passengers from the damaged bus as saying the US Army engaged the bus with machine guns and rockets after the nearby convoy was attacked by an EID or Road Side Bomb. There was a qoute saying that the driver was 100% positive he was attacked by Americans. I also noted that the reporter at no time mentioned even an attempt to contact the US unit involved for a statement but only a Army representative in Baghdad. This Saigon style of reporting should not be tolerated. The media's political agenda's SHOULD NOT outweigh their ethical obligation to report the news objectively and accurately. If the reporter is even here in Iraq he should know that US Soldiers do not carry Rockets so how could the bus driver have been attacked by some? Where did the casualty numbers come from? How were the facts checked? THEY WEREN'T plain and simple.

The true story of the event was the Iraqi security forces took point on the attack. The police responded, brought ambulances and helped secure the scene with out prompting or prodding. Their execution was not great BUT the spirit in the attempt was amazing. It might seem like a small step but its monumental in the advancement of a fledgling force to operate organically. I was proud to see them in action.

Sorry Joshua Partlow and Saad Sarhan of the Washington Post foreign service, your account was completely inaccurate with potentially the only truth being an Iranian influenced Improvised Explosive Device. There were no American casualties and the US forces never fired a shot just helped some innocent bus riders. The two of you should be ashamed and have your credentials pulled for your utter lack of journalism or professional ethics. Perhaps I should write and submit an article on Iceland's cruelty to Unicorns because it will be as objective, honest and accurate as your sorry offering.

Hair Today Gone Tomorrow

As you all can imagine or deduce from my irregular writing that we here in Bad Voo Doo are still pretty busy. We are looking towards the summer and the changes it will bring us. There have been some changes and we are adapting to them. The biggest is to the changes in our living conditions, NOT an improvement with more changes yet to come.

So, with these changes we are trying to come up with new and improved ways to entertain ourselves. Some of these not so new means of entertainment are actually OLD SCHOOL, no not the oldest profession but the second oldest, thats right Gambling! With time on our hands in the strangest of places we find ourselves turning to the old playing cards and other "carnival arcade type" games. From Texas Hold'em to knocking the Rip It cans off the hood of the Gun Trucks. The most entertaining part for me is not the thrill of victory or the pain of defeat but the watching of JP and Ranger Ben the TCN's relentless ridicule of each other and thrill of not winning but tormenting the other.

The stakes are what have become even more entertaining. We have long surpassed the "double or nothing" and money is only worth the value of the public request for it. It started out with a "Where's my money at Bitches?" to accusations of being double agents and victory dances on the opponents Gun Truck. So what can you wager if money no longer holds a value and pride is the most precious commodity. Like Samson in the Bible many hold their hair as a source of individualism and thats why the Army often takes it upon entry but here we only have our personal beliefs and accomplishments some of which we wear on our uniforms. Our coveted Combat Patches! I wear my 2ID Indian Head from my Stryker days, Ben wears an 82 All American from his Panama days, YES he is THAT OLD and JP rocks a 29th or 25th depending on his mood.

Well, Ben the TCN decided to do a little dance on JP's truck which has cost him a little more than he anticipated. He had to wear the 160th and entered into my realm of head dress patch. So careful who you call a double agent because what you have good be Hair today Gone Tomorrow

Hoorah for Harry

When I was in basic training I had a Drill Sergeant that to me was a military diety. Drill Sergeant Chaney was a physical specimen and clearly more knowledgable than the others. It was no surprise that he was one of the Army's best and an Elite Soldier. He taught me something about leadership that stuck with me since that time and it was through example and not rhetoric that I learned that someone leading from the front and example offers alot more than some brain or ego in the rear.

Since this Conflict has happened there have been alot of armchair generals and monday quarterbacks. Many of these are in the public eye and some holding or trying to hold public offices. While they have plenty of opinion they have no REAL contribution, many use the excuse of lacking the ability but many just don't have the constitution to be a real leader.

Pat Tilman demonstrated that there is more important things then money, family and country come first and he didn't pull any rank just joined the Army and earn a slot in 2nd Ranger Battalion along with Bad Voo Doo's very own Ranger Sid. America is one of the countries where priviledge can exclude but we also have the ablility to accept our destiny's. Today it was announced that the United Kingdom's and all her Commonwealth's very own Prince Harry has spent the last couple months on the front lines of the War on Terror combating the Taliban in Afghanistan. He is an Infantry Recon Platoon Leader that also worked as a tactical air controller calling in airstrikes. He is third in line for the Crown but insisted on not only serving in the Royal Armed Forces but to deploy and fight along side his fellow countrymen. That is leadership, not priviledge. Of course there is more risk for someone of that stature to deploy with the kidnapping threat and national strategic value he holds but "good on your Majesty, I salute you!" So when he casts his lot and makes a decision about his country and her military might and need he will speak because he has KNOWLEDGE of Not AQUAINTANCE with.

Little Savages

In the past little bit, Bad Voo Doo and I have been trying to incorporate some kind of humanitarain effort into some of our missions. We have taken some of the excess that our wonderful supporters like Sherri and Mike, along with Dennis and the many others that it would take to long to mention everyone, and distrubuted this items to truly needy kids. So far it has been a mixture of candy, dental hygiene products to correct the problems that candy creates, Blankets and some warm articles of clothing since they live in extremely primitive conditions. We are extremely spoiled as soldiers with our chow halls and equipment that keeps us safe and warm, so we try to extend a kind hand when possible not just for the strategic impact but for the emotional impact on them but selfishly us.

The desert is a barren place. These young kids and I do mean young many under the age of 6 are living in a tent with no climate control so in the heat and the cold they are in the elements with the same outfits, little linen dress like garments and bare feet. The desert does not provide a lot of entertainment that I can think of either. The family has some goats and sheep which seems to be their purpose but the desert is not that great of a grazing ground so how good the meat could be is unsure and they do not seem to have to much of a water source. So I have often wondered to myself and out loud of what these young kids life experience is like. They are probably refugees from the north and the little ones have lived this subsistance lifestyle with little or no contact with other humans other than seeing them in passing. We roar by in our big smoke emitting beasts of war at a speed that rarely affords the chance to get more than a second glance at them or vice versus. So what have the seen or been exposed to, I imagine the older ones perhaps have been exposed to the violence that exists in war but the younger probably have no idea and what they must think of us.

I decided to give them something different today and to not throw it at them driving by, but to treat them like humans and not animals on the side of the road we are feeding our table scraps to. We had banana's, apples, cookies, and to cases of juice boxes. All kids love juice boxes right! We stopped at the selected site and I took Doc Voo Doo with me to help give the food away. As soon as I got out the children ran away, spooked so perhaps whoever had stopped before had given them reason to be fearful, I hoped this was not the case and they were just being apprehensive. I walked toward them calling out in Arabic for them not to be afraid mean while in the back of my mind I thought if this was my kids at home and some strange man was offering them whatever I would hope they would run too. I set the box down and picked up a bananna so that they could see what I had. A couple of the boys realized what I had and fear dissappeared and they sprinted towards me focused purely on the box completely disregarding me. I was hoping that I would get some interaction with them but the fruit was to captivating. The boys that got there first started to pile the fruit into their arms as they did this the others started to lighten their loads which angered them greatly. I took the juice box and prepared one to demonstrate how it worked as one of the girls was looking at the box perplexed. I tried to capture the groups attention so all could see the juice boxes but the eyes of wild animals that have been interupted with their kill was all that looked at me. Only a single little girl looked at me with cute and soft little human eyes. I was taken back, I looked to see if Doc was having the same experience and witnessing what I was.

When I got back into the truck I was asked how it went, and I confess that I felt wierd, outside of myself. I felt like I was an explorer on new terrain meeting the natives for the first time and making the ignorant assesment of cultural differences and then I said it, " They were Little Savages"

Funny thing though, a few minutes later I regained myself and now cannot wait to do it again, they did not misunderstand me so I need to correct myself and not misunderstand them.

Sand Days

Growing up in the mountains of northern British Columbia, we were treated to huge snow falls all the time. I remember one year when the snow fell at such speed that it buried our house during the night forcing us to literaly tunnel out. When these days would come so would a day off from school.

However there were days off even if t was not that bad. There was criteria that had to be met, but cancellation of classes was ussually dependant on whether or not the buses could run. I lived in a small town so most kids found thier own way to school anyway but there where those that lived out in the rural communities that would have to get bused in. When school was cancelled for buses it was a holiday indeed for us. Being raised by a single father meant he was at work and we were left to our own devices. I am willing to confess some of these crimes now because 1) a big body of water seperates me from him 2) he has yet to embrace some of this technology and might never read this 3) I have lots of guns and soldiers.... Kidding my Dads a man of peace but I am still scared.

Snow days led to some great prank calls to which, we got caught. Damn Mounties they always get their men even if we were fledgling men. I always laughed when I heard it was a snow day because no one else stopped working, my dad got up early everyday and we would shovel the driveway which was always a fun thing to do with him before breakfast then he would go off to work and I would clean up and prepare for a day of unadulterated fun.

Recently there has been a lot of sand storms. These things are incoveniences, they force you to adjust how you walk, where you walk, drive and sand finds it's self into and out of everything.

What do you do when enjoying a Sand Day? Hang out at MWR, play some video games, read a magazine thats 4 months old and a paper from January, these are all viable options. What did I do you ask?

I worked out, started reading this great new book called "Roughneck 9-1" but I found myself with time to talk to soldiers. I always try to take time with the younger soldiers to check up on them and to check the old morale-o-meter but I also got the chance to talk with my good friend Kyle and get caught up. We both have some great idea's about telling the soldiers story and he is a film student at USC with a great little winning ditty at the GI Film Fest call "Unwelcome Home". It was so refreshing to just sit there and chat, no agenda's, no limits just to people talking about a common interest. I wish I had more Sand Days so I could just sit down and talk with more of you all. Maybe if everyone faces east and blows really hard we can start the butterfly effect and I can get some more Sand Days!

Rain Check?

Before I was in the Army, I worked in the Golf Industry. I held several jobs from working on the course to cart barn and also working in the Pro Shop and Golf School. One of the pleasures of working in the Pro Shop is customer service, the beauty of that industry are people are only there for recreation so it is very rare that a customer is irrate or unhappy. The only time there seemed to be a negative tone in the Golf Shop was when weather had interrupted peoples play. When paying several hundred dollars for a recreational activity that only lasts 4-6 hours one ussually wants to get his or her money worth. So when the rain or wind was too much they would enter the Golf Shop and I would offer a Rain Check.

So, what does this have to do with being in Iraq you ask. Simply there are certain aspects of our missions that are weather dependant, and when it is bad we have to wait it out. The funniest thing about it there are some parts of the Military now that have been contracted out so there are customer service desks. I had to deal with one of these customer service desks the other night. It does kind of ass me up that I am at the whim of civilain contractors when executing military combat operations but that is the harsh reality of where this war has gone in many circumstances. Anyway, I am standing at this customer service desk awaiting word on whether or not I will be able to do my mission when the person behind the desk informed me that "THEY" were calling my mission off. This person said it with a sense of pride and accomplishment that perplexed me till I realized why.
"See, now you and your men can go home and some one else can come do this mission later!"
Ah Yes the truth was heard, She was happy with hersef because she was doing her part in keeping me safe! I of course always the diplomat asked when these "New Guys" would be coming to do this mission and she again proudly told me in several hours. I already knew there are NO NEW GUYS! That is a myth much like all sports are drug free. I asked if it was nessecary for me to leave and travel several hours back to my "home base" if the mission would be going off only a few hours later. The customer service representative sent me on my way but as I was leaving and calmly asked, "Rain Check?"

So after travelling a few hours to get home to be informed to travel a few hours back to the customer service desk I arrived at the customer service desk to witness the lady changing shifts. Yes some people are in a war zone not in the army and work shifts, it does get crazier. She asked me what I was doing and I felt compelled to explain to her that there are NO NEW GUYS, "WE" do not work shifts and when I said Rain Check I meant it. So next time you think you are doing me a favor use the knowledge I just gave you and leave the soldiering up to the soldiers.

An Interesting Watch

Since I have been writing there have been several groups and people that have approached me to read their book or watch their film. I usually decline because I like to not feel indebted to people or beholding to them, or in some cases even associated with them.

My great friend and former room mate has been working on a film about PTSD called "Hidden Casualties" that is a wonderful project and I am extremely proud of him and his efforts. Ever since he has started working on this project I have found myself fascinated with how the public view "us" in the military and what we do. I also have been focused on bridging some of the gaps and cultural differences that everyday people and we hold. I have participated in forums and conferences, one for Brown University along side my other great film maker friend Deb Scranton the visionary behind the "War Tapes" to help further this cause. I, by no means am a great champion of it but I do try and feel passionately that many film makers have taken advantage of a poor public perception and understanding to further their political agenda versus tell a true and accurate story. The soldiers story.
I am so inspired by Chris, Deborah that I can't help myself when I here about a SOLDIER story.

I was hooked up with a copy of "This is War; Memories of Iraq" a film about a couple of soldiers from the Oregon National Guard during their time in Iraq. I was fascinated to see how others eyes saw things since I was here at the same time that unit was and fought in several of the same places as a leader in the Stryker Brigade. Some things are pretty universal among soldiers, crude langauge, bad jokes, and love for the man or woman to the right and left. A platoon sergeant spoke in a few interviews so I felt a connection to some of what he was talking about and there was a broad spectrum of ranks represented. I of course am extremely critical and was hoping for more personal footage versus stock footage but as an Infantryman I clearly understand that the camera is the last thing one reaches for in a firefight. My desire for more personal footage I believe was fueled by my desire to learn more about these wonderful soldiers.

The film was done in good taste and again demonstrated a true Battle Buddy Fellowship that continues beyond the bording pass home. The Platoon Sergeant in the film Vinny Jauques started a veteran support foundation working and helping not only some of his own guys but any in need. God Bless this fine NCO and thank you for inspiring me to do more and be a better Platoon Sergeant and MAN.

If you get a chance check it out. www.thecombatreport.com

Magical Tree's

I am the proud result of several different school systems. I have attended and been moderately successful in Private Schools in Canada as well as Public Schools and I have also graduated from a public school in the US. For this reason I am happy to report that I can count! Yes I can count starting at zero something of no numeric value and then understand that 1 is the next singular whole number. From this point I can continue, I have been taught to keep track of my numeric values using my digits ussually on my hands some times I have to transition to my toes when the numbers get REALLY large but I do not fear or tremble when I hit double digits. The confidence that more than one school system has bestowed me helps carry me through my days tasks and occurances.

The reason why I am discussing my special talent to count to ten is to help demonstrate how simple the most complex of problems can be brought down to. Bad Voo Doo has been going all out. The platoon has been trucks passing in the night literally. I have been conducting my administrative business over the radio as our elements pass each other on seperate missions. The boys are tired but still deep in the game and focused and as always I am proud of their professionalism and ability to accomplish whatever mission jumps out infront of them. Without divulging too much intel we are constantly tasked and before we complete one we are already preparing for the next while trying to squeak guys some sleep, showers and laundry. I have a limited number of soldiers and vehicles, of course there are manning challenges like soldiers on leave and guys out for injuries, administrative issues etc but there is only so much blood that can be squeezed from a turnip.

So, in one of my few sacred moments of rest the radio comes alive in its always intrusive, piercing squawk to inform me I have yet another mission that Bad Voo Doo is going to have to accomplish. Now, I am not always grumpy in the morning, it typically is my favorite time of day but I admit to being a little short with the demanding voice on the other side of the transmission. Of course everyone is tough talking when they are being heard all around camp but get to hide in a secure office and not face the person they are engaging. I assure you, take the mic out of their hand and facilitate a face to face meeting and that radio tough guy just turned into the real weazel scared shitless that the person truly is.

"Pray tell my oh so knowledgable and combat experienced bearer of bad news where will I find these soldiers and vehicles to accomplish this mission?"

"Not MY problem, make it happen and I need the names NOW!"

I quickly looked under my pillow to see if the 9mm rounds I place there each night before I sleep bore fruit and the TROOP FAIRY paid me a visit and like her second cousin the TOOTH FAIRY took my humble offerring and replaced my bullets with steelly eyed killers. To my dismay I again had been neglected by my mystical helper. I then did the only thing that made sense, I held my hands infront of my face and started to count with my fingers then my toes to make sure that perhaps my education had failed me and my ego was writing checks my basic arithmatic couldn't cash. Again I was confused because my critical thinking didn't lead me to a solution. SO when the going gets tough the tough ask for directions right ladies.

"XRAY...VOO DOO 7........Can I get Directions to the troop and truck tree? The Troop Fairy didn't leave me any last night."

"VOO DOO 7 ... XRAY..REPEAT LAST TRANSMISSION"

"Sorry, I was hoping to find the truck and troop bearing tree that I can pluck the soldiers from so I can accomplish this mission. Those of us that work outside the wire don't have the benefit of our little dream worlds we just deal with what we have so unless you know where that tree is, take that mission and relocate it to your ASS!"