2.21.2008

Finally, They Throw This Dog A Bone

We fly down the roads of Nowhere, Iraq, on a no one, nothing mission. We have a mission? Hahaha, fuck right off, pal. It's all just tomfoolery and assclownery here.

I'm in one of the air guard hatches of the trail vehicle, gloriously uninformed and perfectly happy about it. Hell, maybe they DID say something about what was going on over coms and I just shrugged it off without realizing it. It's all the same anyway, right?

A ridiculous traffic jam gums up the works, and we're having none of it. Can't let these crazy revolutionaries, extremists, and commuters get too close. Standard procedure, stay the fuck away. I'm on the 240 (that beautiful belt fed fully automatic bastard of all bastards), so my friend takes advantage of the situation and sticks his rifle out the back.

CRACK!

The car stops its advance in a damn hurry.

"What the hell was that?" someone inside the truck asks. We radio up for all to hear, "This is [Truck: Pestilence And Plague], warning shot, over."

The road is lined and constipated with angry motorists, all of them very familiar with this drill. The Americans plow and shoot their way through while everyone else is held up for god knows how long. Sometimes they get brave and shoot out into traffic and zoom away, shaking their heads in moderate rebellion, head full of "Fuck off, Americans, seriously..."

Not today.

"My turn, motherfucker!" I snatch my M4 up and point it out the back. CRACK!

"God, there's another one." My ol' pal shakes his head and blasts away at a random point in the soft dirt.

It's demonic, not-all-there fun. If you go too long without firing a weapon in public places, you forget just how fun it is. I've damn near got bloodlust, I'm enjoying myself so fucking much. Any piss-poor excuse to shoot, we take it. Banging away at nothing, our own version of celebratory gunfire, like we'd just remembered that our rifles actually fire. Each trigger squeeze is a public service announcement. It's an orgy of blatant disregard for Hunter's Safety. The lead truck fires a warning now and then. We reciprocate two-fold. Someone gets too close, no problem, find an open spot of dirt and plug it. WHOOO!!!

I motion with my hand for the car to back off us, "Back the FUCK up, chump!"

As if the guy can hear me, but hey, that's escalation of force, Rules of Engagement and all that. I take aim at dirt, flip the safety off, and start to squeeze. There's NO play left in the trigger when a pedestrian's head appears in my sight.

My finger leaves the trigger so fast, you'd have thought someone shot it off, and my thumb rips the selector back to Safe. International incident averted.

That could have been REALLY bad.

CRACK!

"Pestilence and Plague, warning shot, over."

Later on, we stop to test-fire our weapons systems. The .50 cal is up. The other 240 then sounds off with a couple small bursts. In the spirit of boisterous male assholes since the beginning of time, I charge my 240 and squeeze the trigger like I'm trying to strangle the damn thing. 7.62mm automatic fury, the loudest chattering you could imagine, chewing links and spitting lead downrange. Passionate five second bursts until everyone including the LT is yelling, "Ok! It fucking WORKS!!!"

For some, love is a powerful emotion felt between two people, or a feeling of family that can't be described, or the deepest devotion to their God. For me, love is a fully automatic weapon unleashing chaos in my hands. I'll miss it.





This marks the end of combat operations for my friend and I, until we return. Soon, we're off across oceans, to uncharted territory, "where the beer flows like wine and the women flock like the seagulls of Capastrano." We'll sail seas of liquor, see sights, throw caution to the wind, no planning whatsoever, every action on a whim, no bounds, no ties.

We'll be no one. A couple of strangers with no history. No background. It isn't a clean slate, we won't HAVE a slate. Famished and ravenous, we'll wring every last drop of life that we can out of this place, suck it dry, get our money's worth. This trip is on Uncle Sam's dime. He's got his money's worth and then some out of us, so it's only fair, right?

Nothing is too strange or taboo. It will never be weird enough for me. Stop at nothing, sleep only when absolutely necessary, chew vitamins and keep moving. We're making our escape from Shawshank.

Just two strangers sticking out like sore thumbs in a sea of normal people.

Sounds great to me.

7 Comments:

  1. Ky Woman said...
    We won't read about your shenanigans in the newspapers, will we? ;-)
    IF you were to come see the "Queen City", I'd offer to buy y'all a brew or two.

    Oh, and let me be the first to say "Welcome HOME Soldier!"

    Y'all take care out there....
    Aprillini said...
    yah, I have a bone for you, baby.
    Red said...
    If you make the papers anywhere...you have to tell us. Srsly.

    Plug that dirt! Stupid dirt... turn it into swiss cheese. Glad you're having some fun out there. Warped, bloodthirsty, testosterone-poisoned fun.
    themorethingschange... said...
    Well shucks, I thought you two had already left...

    been counting the days since your last post and looking forward to reports of your escapades....

    You're going to have an off-the- charts great time!

    I know the military warnings seem bogus and are the last thing you wanted to hear but hey, those warnings spring from experience...

    if you guys want to get blotto I'd say you're due, overdue actually...

    ...but we really don't want Stars & Stripes to run a story on a coupla GI's who got themselves rolled in *____* while making asses of themselves ... Seriously.

    .. remember the lobster that sparked an international incident..

    I'm just sayin'....

    ~P~
    David M said...
    The Thunder Run has linked to this post in the blog post - From the Front: 02/22/2008 - News and Personal dispatches from the front lines.
    membrain said...
    Well finally you guys are off for R&R. I hope it's great place. You deserve it. Like th old song goes: "Cigars and whiskey and wild wild women. They'll drive you crazy they'll drive you insane.
    Anonymous said...
    wow, you really need to grow up.

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