wendesday november 16th started out just like any other day. wake up around 0600. eat breakfast. go back asleep. wake up at noon. pull guard duty. six hours of staring into nothingness, waiting for something to happen and break up the monotomy of it all.
something never comes. once the shift was over, i showered up and did a load of laundry. i was struck with a bit of indecision on whether i wanted to watch a movie or play the guitar instead. i decided on the guitar, and played until the sun went down.
a night owl by nature, i rarely went to bed this early. what the hell. i could attempt to get my body back on a semi-regular sleep cycle again. and by 2100, i was curled up next to my rifle, out cold. it felt like i had just drifted off into sleep when i heard footsteps on the wooden floor of our tent. they were headed in my direction. half asleep, i pushed the indiglo button on my watch to see what time it was. 2324. the soft glow of my wristwatch was abruptly replaced with the harsh beam of a mag-lite in my face. while my pupils did their best to dilate, i could barely make out the silhouette of the master sergeant bearing over me.
"get your boys up and packed. convoys inbound to pick you up in 30 minutes."
fuck.
and just as quickly as he came in, he was gone. i layed in bed for a minute, mind racing at the speed of a supercomputer somewhere in quantico. what the hell is going on? news like this was never good, and you eventually learn not to ask too many questions. not when such a sense of urgency is in the air. details would come later. piece by piece. so i had to pack with no idea of where i was going or how long for. usually, in situations like these the rule of thumb is to err on the side of caution. meaning, pack alot of socks. good thing i did that laundry i silently thought to myself.
29 minutes later, my squad and myself had made the transformation from sleeping beauties in sweatpants to
wide-eyed warriors in full gear. ready.
when the convoy rolled up, the drivers looked like something out of a mad max movie. torn clothes, dusty faces, bags under eyes. i managed to find a buddy amid the confusion and proceeded to probe a little. my discovery was by far more grim than i had originally hoped for. a sister platoon had taken heavy taliban contact a few hours ago, and our services were now being requested in the chow kay valley.
fuck.
the valley of the shadow of death. i remember it clearly. 8000+ feet up in elevation. eye level with clouds, a mysterious haze irradiating the perfect setting for imminent contact.
sometimes it visits me in dream. sometimes the smell of exhaust will jar my memory of the fight to the death we had to endure just to get out of there back in august.
and now, here in november, an international call to arms was sounded by the taliban and round two was already underway in the chow kay valley. i had hoped that i would never have to return there. and for a while, it was looking like i wouldnt have to. but, an our into the way there, i knew that things had taken a sharp 180. time to put the gameface on.
if these terrorist fucks wanted to meet allah this month, farbeit from me to prevent that from happening.
after consultation with the GPS, i calculated it was an 8 hour drive to the link-up grid square. in the absence of the sun, riding in the back of a HUMVEE can be quite frigid. liken it to taking a sunday afternoon drive in alaska with no windshield. most of the other marines in the back with me stayed low and tried to get some sleep in before the mission formally began.
i however, could not.
i sulked in silence and cursed the "force in readiness" creed of the marine corps. i should be in bed right now. i let that brew for a little bit until rationalization took control once more. such is the life of a marine. much like a surgeon is on call 24 hours a day, the same holds true with an infantry grunt in a combat zone. when duty calls, you must answer. this thought process was interrupted by the stinging wind that seemed to travel through my nostrils and pierce my brain with a cruel burning sensation. i tried to think of a single part of my body that remained warm.
my sack was all that came to mind and even by that point, it was making a retreat upwards of my stomach. like a frightened turtle.
i should be in bed right now.
it is said that the mind is more powerful than the body. i put it to the test. displacement was my last remaining hope. occupy the mind with thoughts and make it forget about the cold. strangely, i remembered the road trips i used to take to chicago with college friends. then the subconscious connection was made that chicago too, is a cold place. so much for displacement. the only thing left to do was say a prayer for the safety of myself and my marines and remain vigilant.
the mountains seemed to tower over me in a menacing manner tonight. moreso than usual. these mountains....i used to look at them with awe as something of beauty when i first got here. time served has given me a more cynical stance on them now. the only association they bring is one of distrust and uneasiness. vulnerability. no matter what road we traveled down, they always flanked us on both sides. visibility was low, but i kept a weary eye on the crestline. you never know who is up there observing you, finger tickling the trigger of an RPG or sniper rifle. i remember thinking, wanting desperately to trade these snowcapped mountains in for the luscious green mountians of oahu. stay vigilant, chad. ignore the cold and stay vigilant. everybody comes home. i looked at my watch. 30 minutes out.
something never comes. once the shift was over, i showered up and did a load of laundry. i was struck with a bit of indecision on whether i wanted to watch a movie or play the guitar instead. i decided on the guitar, and played until the sun went down.
a night owl by nature, i rarely went to bed this early. what the hell. i could attempt to get my body back on a semi-regular sleep cycle again. and by 2100, i was curled up next to my rifle, out cold. it felt like i had just drifted off into sleep when i heard footsteps on the wooden floor of our tent. they were headed in my direction. half asleep, i pushed the indiglo button on my watch to see what time it was. 2324. the soft glow of my wristwatch was abruptly replaced with the harsh beam of a mag-lite in my face. while my pupils did their best to dilate, i could barely make out the silhouette of the master sergeant bearing over me.
"get your boys up and packed. convoys inbound to pick you up in 30 minutes."
fuck.
and just as quickly as he came in, he was gone. i layed in bed for a minute, mind racing at the speed of a supercomputer somewhere in quantico. what the hell is going on? news like this was never good, and you eventually learn not to ask too many questions. not when such a sense of urgency is in the air. details would come later. piece by piece. so i had to pack with no idea of where i was going or how long for. usually, in situations like these the rule of thumb is to err on the side of caution. meaning, pack alot of socks. good thing i did that laundry i silently thought to myself.
29 minutes later, my squad and myself had made the transformation from sleeping beauties in sweatpants to
wide-eyed warriors in full gear. ready.
when the convoy rolled up, the drivers looked like something out of a mad max movie. torn clothes, dusty faces, bags under eyes. i managed to find a buddy amid the confusion and proceeded to probe a little. my discovery was by far more grim than i had originally hoped for. a sister platoon had taken heavy taliban contact a few hours ago, and our services were now being requested in the chow kay valley.
fuck.
the valley of the shadow of death. i remember it clearly. 8000+ feet up in elevation. eye level with clouds, a mysterious haze irradiating the perfect setting for imminent contact.
sometimes it visits me in dream. sometimes the smell of exhaust will jar my memory of the fight to the death we had to endure just to get out of there back in august.
and now, here in november, an international call to arms was sounded by the taliban and round two was already underway in the chow kay valley. i had hoped that i would never have to return there. and for a while, it was looking like i wouldnt have to. but, an our into the way there, i knew that things had taken a sharp 180. time to put the gameface on.
if these terrorist fucks wanted to meet allah this month, farbeit from me to prevent that from happening.
after consultation with the GPS, i calculated it was an 8 hour drive to the link-up grid square. in the absence of the sun, riding in the back of a HUMVEE can be quite frigid. liken it to taking a sunday afternoon drive in alaska with no windshield. most of the other marines in the back with me stayed low and tried to get some sleep in before the mission formally began.
i however, could not.
i sulked in silence and cursed the "force in readiness" creed of the marine corps. i should be in bed right now. i let that brew for a little bit until rationalization took control once more. such is the life of a marine. much like a surgeon is on call 24 hours a day, the same holds true with an infantry grunt in a combat zone. when duty calls, you must answer. this thought process was interrupted by the stinging wind that seemed to travel through my nostrils and pierce my brain with a cruel burning sensation. i tried to think of a single part of my body that remained warm.
my sack was all that came to mind and even by that point, it was making a retreat upwards of my stomach. like a frightened turtle.
i should be in bed right now.
it is said that the mind is more powerful than the body. i put it to the test. displacement was my last remaining hope. occupy the mind with thoughts and make it forget about the cold. strangely, i remembered the road trips i used to take to chicago with college friends. then the subconscious connection was made that chicago too, is a cold place. so much for displacement. the only thing left to do was say a prayer for the safety of myself and my marines and remain vigilant.
the mountains seemed to tower over me in a menacing manner tonight. moreso than usual. these mountains....i used to look at them with awe as something of beauty when i first got here. time served has given me a more cynical stance on them now. the only association they bring is one of distrust and uneasiness. vulnerability. no matter what road we traveled down, they always flanked us on both sides. visibility was low, but i kept a weary eye on the crestline. you never know who is up there observing you, finger tickling the trigger of an RPG or sniper rifle. i remember thinking, wanting desperately to trade these snowcapped mountains in for the luscious green mountians of oahu. stay vigilant, chad. ignore the cold and stay vigilant. everybody comes home. i looked at my watch. 30 minutes out.
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Kisses
That guitar picture is slightly amusing for some reason!