War is Hell
"Look ma'am," my soldier said, holding up his black PT shorts. He was showing me a series of reddish eruptions on his legs -- the sores looked like ingrown hairs. "I have leishmaniasis!" He told me this with a curious mix of pride and horror in his voice -- the way a little boy will show off a particularly nasty scrape as a badge of honor. "Screw that!" another soldier said -- "Check this out!" Then he showed off a festering bite on his arm. "Camel spider," he said proudly, while the rest of us made noises of disgust in the backs of our throats. No bullet wounds here, no shrapnel, no mortar fragments lodged in bone...my guys are covered in the bites of Iraqi fauna.
Daily Non-Sequitor: I met a guy from the Louisiana National Guard the other day, at a farewell pizza dinner for one of the lieutenants in my battalion. He's an Infantry platoon leader, and he's been awarded the Purple Heart 4 times -- his platoon has been hit 12 times with IEDs, twice with rocket propelled grenades, 4 times with mortars -- and no one but him has ever been injured. We have anti-IED signal jammers in our trucks called "Warlocks" which are supposed to keep command detonated IEDs from going off -- the trigger devices out here are usually cell phones or motorolla radios, and the Warlock jams their signal from setting off the explosive. This lieutenant seems to trigger IEDs himself, so his platoon calls him "The Wizard" -- the exact opposite of a Warlock. He described this one experience at a forward operating base (FOB) in the south of Baghdad when he went outside of his tent to get some water, and a mortar round exploded right in front of him. He hobbled back into the tent, swearing, blood pouring down his leg -- and his NCO says, "Shit sir, you can't even walk around the FOB without getting hit!"
The purpose of this blog is to outline for you at home the threats we face out here in Iraq daily. In case you think this will be another blood-n-guts blog like my last one, think again. The above vignette doesn't hold a CANDLE to some of the horrifying things I am about to describe. We have many enemies out here, and they are vigilant. Screw mortar attacks and unwashed insurgents -- what I am about to describe is the true terror out here. If you have children, you may want to ask them to leave the room. Please, try not to scream.
1. Leishmaniasis: A parasitic disease caused by the bite of an infected sand fly. It isn't a huge problem where I am, simply because we aren't sleeping outside in the sand where the flies have easy access to our unprotected flesh. (Interesting note: parasites are especially common in desert climates because in places where water is scarce, because it makes good bioenergetic sense to pray on the blood of other creatures rather than hunt down water yourself -- man I love Iraq.)
However, it's enough of a problem that most of the soldiers know at least one person with a really bad infestation.
2. Camel Spiders: These little bastards are the Kenyan Olympic Sprinters of the bu
g world -- twice as fast as the zombies in Dawn of the Dead, meaner than the face-huggers from Alien, with a bite that makes the brown recluse's seem like a pleasant tickle. They have a face only a mother could love, if that mother were Mrs. Bates or that scary quadrapelegic inbred-woman from that one episode of the X-files.
(Learning Point -- the "camel spider" is actually a solpugid, which isn't a spider at all, but a funktified member of the arachnid family.) They have been clocked at speeds up to 10mph, which is pretty frigging fast considering their legs are only 5 inches long. They are nocturnal, which is a total bitch because they're apt to be out and about at 2 in the morning when all I want to do is make it to the latrine and back without incident -- the last thing one needs when one's bladder is full is an enormous spider-scorpion-alien-thing rushing out of the darkness to attack one. One might scream like a little girl and wet oneself, which would do NOTHING for your command authority, let me tell you.
3. The A**Holes at Laundry Turn In: The laundry turn in point is a black hole. They must have years of stolen underwear and socks back there -- most of the girls here will not turn in their u
ndies anymore after repeated instances of turning in 5 pairs, and getting back 4. I mean, they are more than welcome to my sweaty, skanky cotton underdrawers if they want -- it's not like I'm wearing anything sexy out here in the desert. Funnily enough, I left all my thongs at home (what was I thinking?) and only brought sensible granny panties, thinking -- in my naivete -- that only myself would ever see them. If I knew the Filipinos were feeding such a dividing fetish, I might have brought something a little nicer for them to drool over. Now, normally this would not bother me -- but I really am starting to run out of underwear, so the next time I get my laundry bag back missing a pair of my plain white hanes-her-way, I am going to pitch the mother of all bitches right there in front of God & everybody. Goddammit, how am I supposed to defend the free world if I do not have a clean pair of underwear?
4. Army Goggles: This is a big one. We've been out here for over 6 months now -- and it is completely niave of Higher Command to assume that nobody is out here getting it on. Of COURSE people are getting it on -- they sell condoms at the PX and if you believe the medics, STDs are running rampant throughout the post. You put males and females together in a cruddy situation for months on end, and they are going to do the most natural thing to cheer themselves up -- get their friends to ship them alcohol in mouthwash bottles, then snort valium stolen from the TMC. After that though, they are going to have sex. Probably with each other, the animals. That's the rumor, anyway -- I've never caught anyone at it (though we've tried often enough -- whoo random bed checks!). The problem here though is not the risk of pregnancy or catching a gift that keeps on giving from your paramour, but of having your buddies see you with this chick and rag you about it for the rest of your life. In case you didn't get the memo, Heidi Klum is not in the Army. The pretty girls in the Army will probably not have sex with you -- they probably have significant others back home...or failing that, they have standards. The girls out here getting the most play are NOT the uber-hotties you were perhaps thinking. You've all heard of Beer Goggles, right? Well, Army Goggles are the same thing, only they are brought on by long periods of celibacy in a combat situation.
Your eyes see this:
While your brain sees this:
And that, my friends, is not something you want to go home bragging about. Eventually, even girls who look good with the help of Army Goggles are going to be busted again. Count on it. Is it really worth the price of admission to get naked with a girl who took a nosedive off the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down?
You be the judge.
Until next time, dear readers.
Daily Non-Sequitor: I met a guy from the Louisiana National Guard the other day, at a farewell pizza dinner for one of the lieutenants in my battalion. He's an Infantry platoon leader, and he's been awarded the Purple Heart 4 times -- his platoon has been hit 12 times with IEDs, twice with rocket propelled grenades, 4 times with mortars -- and no one but him has ever been injured. We have anti-IED signal jammers in our trucks called "Warlocks" which are supposed to keep command detonated IEDs from going off -- the trigger devices out here are usually cell phones or motorolla radios, and the Warlock jams their signal from setting off the explosive. This lieutenant seems to trigger IEDs himself, so his platoon calls him "The Wizard" -- the exact opposite of a Warlock. He described this one experience at a forward operating base (FOB) in the south of Baghdad when he went outside of his tent to get some water, and a mortar round exploded right in front of him. He hobbled back into the tent, swearing, blood pouring down his leg -- and his NCO says, "Shit sir, you can't even walk around the FOB without getting hit!"
The purpose of this blog is to outline for you at home the threats we face out here in Iraq daily. In case you think this will be another blood-n-guts blog like my last one, think again. The above vignette doesn't hold a CANDLE to some of the horrifying things I am about to describe. We have many enemies out here, and they are vigilant. Screw mortar attacks and unwashed insurgents -- what I am about to describe is the true terror out here. If you have children, you may want to ask them to leave the room. Please, try not to scream.
1. Leishmaniasis: A parasitic disease caused by the bite of an infected sand fly. It isn't a huge problem where I am, simply because we aren't sleeping outside in the sand where the flies have easy access to our unprotected flesh. (Interesting note: parasites are especially common in desert climates because in places where water is scarce, because it makes good bioenergetic sense to pray on the blood of other creatures rather than hunt down water yourself -- man I love Iraq.)However, it's enough of a problem that most of the soldiers know at least one person with a really bad infestation.
2. Camel Spiders: These little bastards are the Kenyan Olympic Sprinters of the bu
g world -- twice as fast as the zombies in Dawn of the Dead, meaner than the face-huggers from Alien, with a bite that makes the brown recluse's seem like a pleasant tickle. They have a face only a mother could love, if that mother were Mrs. Bates or that scary quadrapelegic inbred-woman from that one episode of the X-files.(Learning Point -- the "camel spider" is actually a solpugid, which isn't a spider at all, but a funktified member of the arachnid family.) They have been clocked at speeds up to 10mph, which is pretty frigging fast considering their legs are only 5 inches long. They are nocturnal, which is a total bitch because they're apt to be out and about at 2 in the morning when all I want to do is make it to the latrine and back without incident -- the last thing one needs when one's bladder is full is an enormous spider-scorpion-alien-thing rushing out of the darkness to attack one. One might scream like a little girl and wet oneself, which would do NOTHING for your command authority, let me tell you.
3. The A**Holes at Laundry Turn In: The laundry turn in point is a black hole. They must have years of stolen underwear and socks back there -- most of the girls here will not turn in their u
ndies anymore after repeated instances of turning in 5 pairs, and getting back 4. I mean, they are more than welcome to my sweaty, skanky cotton underdrawers if they want -- it's not like I'm wearing anything sexy out here in the desert. Funnily enough, I left all my thongs at home (what was I thinking?) and only brought sensible granny panties, thinking -- in my naivete -- that only myself would ever see them. If I knew the Filipinos were feeding such a dividing fetish, I might have brought something a little nicer for them to drool over. Now, normally this would not bother me -- but I really am starting to run out of underwear, so the next time I get my laundry bag back missing a pair of my plain white hanes-her-way, I am going to pitch the mother of all bitches right there in front of God & everybody. Goddammit, how am I supposed to defend the free world if I do not have a clean pair of underwear?4. Army Goggles: This is a big one. We've been out here for over 6 months now -- and it is completely niave of Higher Command to assume that nobody is out here getting it on. Of COURSE people are getting it on -- they sell condoms at the PX and if you believe the medics, STDs are running rampant throughout the post. You put males and females together in a cruddy situation for months on end, and they are going to do the most natural thing to cheer themselves up -- get their friends to ship them alcohol in mouthwash bottles, then snort valium stolen from the TMC. After that though, they are going to have sex. Probably with each other, the animals. That's the rumor, anyway -- I've never caught anyone at it (though we've tried often enough -- whoo random bed checks!). The problem here though is not the risk of pregnancy or catching a gift that keeps on giving from your paramour, but of having your buddies see you with this chick and rag you about it for the rest of your life. In case you didn't get the memo, Heidi Klum is not in the Army. The pretty girls in the Army will probably not have sex with you -- they probably have significant others back home...or failing that, they have standards. The girls out here getting the most play are NOT the uber-hotties you were perhaps thinking. You've all heard of Beer Goggles, right? Well, Army Goggles are the same thing, only they are brought on by long periods of celibacy in a combat situation.
Your eyes see this:
While your brain sees this:
And that, my friends, is not something you want to go home bragging about. Eventually, even girls who look good with the help of Army Goggles are going to be busted again. Count on it. Is it really worth the price of admission to get naked with a girl who took a nosedive off the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down?You be the judge.
Until next time, dear readers.
posted by Sunny @ 2:32 AM
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