Time Magazine has published an amazing letter
from a Marine stationed in Iraq.
Although this has no direct connection to Michael's
work, I think anyone who has
been following his reports will find this remarkable
and moving.
A Letter From
Iraq
A Marine's letter home,
with its frank description of life in "Dante's
inferno,"
has been circulating through generals' in-boxes.
We publish it here with the author's approval
Posted Friday, Oct. 06, 2006
Written last month,
this straightforward account of life in Iraq by a
Marine officer was initially sent just to a small
group of family and friends. His honest but wry
narration and unusually frank dissection of the
mission contrasts sharply with the story presented by
both sides of the Iraq war debate, the Pentagon spin
masters and fierce critics. Perhaps inevitably, the
"Letter from Iraq" moved quickly beyond the small
group of acquaintances and hit the inboxes of retired
generals, officers in the Pentagon, and staffers on
Capitol Hill. TIME's Sally B. Donnelly first received
a copy three weeks ago but only this week was able to
track down the author and verify the document's
authenticity. The author wishes to remain anonymous
but has allowed us to publish it here -- with a few
judicious omissions.
All: I haven't written very much from Iraq. There's
really not much to write about. More exactly, there's
not much I can write about because practically
everything I do, read or hear is classified military
information or is depressing to the point that I'd
rather just forget about it, never mind write about
it. The gaps in between all of that are filled with
the pure tedium of daily life in an armed camp. So
it's a bit of a struggle to think of anything to put
into a letter that's worth reading. Worse, this place
just consumes you. I work 18-20-hour days, every day.
The quest to draw a clear picture of what the
insurgents are up to never ends.
Problems and frictions crop up faster than solutions.
Every challenge demands a response. It's like this
every day. Before I know it, I can't see straight,
because it's 0400 and I've been at work for 20 hours
straight, somehow missing dinner again in the
process. And once again I haven't written to anyone.
It starts all over again four hours later. It's not
really like Ground Hog Day, it's more like a level
from Dante's Inferno.
Rather than attempting to sum up the last seven
months, I figured I'd just hit the record-setting
highlights of 2006 in Iraq. These are among the
events and experiences I'll remember best.
Worst Case of Deja Vu -- I thought I was familiar
with the feeling of deja vu until I arrived back here
in Fallujah in February. The moment I stepped off of
the helicopter, just as dawn broke, and saw the camp
just as I had left it ten months before -- that was
deja vu. Kind of unnerving. It was as if I had never
left. Same work area, same busted desk, same chair,
same computer, same room, same creaky rack, same...
everything. Same everything for the next year. It was
like entering a parallel universe. Home wasn't 10,000
miles away, it was a different lifetime.
Most Surreal Moment -- Watching Marines arrive at my
detention facility and unload a truck load of
flex-cuffed midgets. 26 to be exact. We had put the
word out earlier in the day to the Marines in
Fallujah that we were looking for Bad Guy X, who was
described as a midget. Little did I know that
Fallujah was home to a small community of midgets,
who banded together for support since they were
considered as social outcasts. The Marines were
anxious to get back to the midget colony to bring in
the rest of the midget suspects, but I called off the
search, figuring Bad Guy X was long gone on his short
legs after seeing his companions rounded up by the
giant infidels.
Most Profound Man in Iraq -- an unidentified farmer
in a fairly remote area who, after being asked by
Reconnaissance Marines if he had seen any foreign
fighters in the area replied "Yes, you."
Worst City in al-Anbar Province -- Ramadi, hands
down. The provincial capital of 400,000 people. Lots
and lots of insurgents killed in there since we
arrived in February. Every day is a nasty gun battle.
They blast us with giant bombs in the road, snipers,
mortars and small arms. We blast them with tanks,
attack helicopters, artillery, our snipers (much
better than theirs), and every weapon that an
infantryman can carry. Every day. Incredibly, I
rarely see Ramadi in the news. We have as many
attacks out here in the west as Baghdad. Yet, Baghdad
has 7 million people, we have just 1.2 million. Per
capita, al-Anbar province is the most violent place
in Iraq by several orders of magnitude. I suppose it
was no accident that the Marines were assigned this
area in 2003.
Bravest Guy in al-Anbar Province -- Any Explosive
Ordnance Disposal Technician (EOD Tech). How'd you
like a job that required you to defuse bombs in a
hole in the middle of the road that very likely are
booby-trapped or connected by wire to a bad guy who's
just waiting for you to get close to the bomb before
he clicks the detonator? Every day. Sanitation
workers in New York City get paid more than these
guys. Talk about courage and commitment.
Second Bravest Guy in al-Anbar Province -- It's a
20,000-way tie among all these Marines and Soldiers
who venture out on the highways and through the towns
of al-Anbar every day, not knowing if it will be
their last and for a couple of them, it will be.
Worst E-Mail Message -- "The Walking Blood Bank is
Activated. We need blood type A+ stat." I always head
down to the surgical unit as soon as I get these
messages, but I never give blood -- there's always
about 80 Marines in line, night or day.
Biggest Surprise -- Iraqi Police. All local guys. I
never figured that we'd get a police force
established in the cities in al-Anbar. I estimated
that insurgents would kill the first few, scaring off
the rest. Well, insurgents did kill the first few,
but the cops kept on coming. The insurgents continue
to target the police, killing them in their homes and
on the streets, but the cops won't give up.
Absolutely incredible tenacity. The insurgents know
that the police are far better at finding them than
we are -- and they are finding them. Now, if we could
just get them out of the habit of beating prisoners
to a pulp...
Greatest Vindication -- Stocking up on outrageous
quantities of Diet Coke from the chow hall in spite
of the derision from my men on such hoarding, then
having a 122mm rocket blast apart the giant shipping
container that held all of the soda for the chow
hall. Yep, you can't buy experience.
Biggest Mystery -- How some people can gain weight
out here. I'm down to 165 lbs. Who has time to eat?
Second Biggest Mystery -- if there's no atheists in
foxholes, then why aren't there more people at Mass
every Sunday?
Favorite Iraqi TV Show -- Oprah. I have no idea. They
all have satellite TV.
Coolest Insurgent Act -- Stealing almost $7 million
from the main bank in Ramadi in broad daylight, then,
upon exiting, waving to the Marines in the combat
outpost right next to the bank, who had no clue of
what was going on. The Marines waved back. Too cool.
Most Memorable Scene -- In the middle of the night,
on a dusty airfield, watching the better part of a
battalion of Marines packed up and ready to go home
after over six months in al-Anbar, the relief etched
in their young faces even in the moonlight. Then
watching these same Marines exchange glances with a
similar number of grunts loaded down with gear file
past their replacements. Nothing was said. Nothing
needed to be said.
Highest Unit Re-enlistment Rate -- Any outfit that
has been in Iraq recently. All the danger, all the
hardship, all the time away from home, all the
horror, all the frustrations with the fight here --
all are outweighed by the desire for young men to be
part of a band of brothers who will die for one
another. They found what they were looking for when
they enlisted out of high school. Man for man, they
now have more combat experience than any Marines in
the history of our Corps.
Most Surprising Thing I Don't Miss -- Beer. Perhaps
being half-stunned by lack of sleep makes up for it.
Worst Smell -- Porta-johns in 120-degree heat -- and
that's 120 degrees outside of the porta-john.
Highest Temperature -- I don't know exactly, but it
was in the porta-johns. Needed to re-hydrate after
each trip to the loo.
Biggest Hassle -- High-ranking visitors. More
disruptive to work than a rocket attack. VIPs demand
briefs and "battlefield" tours (we take them to quiet
sections of Fallujah, which is plenty scary for
them). Our briefs and commentary seem to have no
effect on their preconceived notions of what's going
on in Iraq. Their trips allow them to say that
they've been to Fallujah, which gives them an
unfortunate degree of credibility in perpetuating
their fantasies about the insurgency here.
Biggest Outrage -- Practically anything said by
talking heads on TV about the war in Iraq, not that I
get to watch much TV. Their thoughts are consistently
both grossly simplistic and politically slanted.
Biggest Offender: Bill O'Reilly.
Best Intel Work -- Finding Jill Carroll's kidnappers
-- all of them. I was mighty proud of my guys that
day. I figured we'd all get the Christian Science
Monitor for free after this, but none have showed up
yet.
Saddest Moment -- Having an infantry battalion
commander hand me the dog tags of one of my Marines
who had just been killed while on a mission with his
unit. Hit by a 60mm mortar. He was a great Marine. I
felt crushed for a long time afterward. His picture
now hangs at the entrance to our section area. We'll
carry it home with us when we leave in February.
Best Chuck Norris Moment -- 13 May. Bad Guys arrived
at the government center in a small town to kidnap
the mayor, since they have a problem with any form of
government that does not include regular beheadings
and women wearing burqahs. There were seven of them.
As they brought the mayor out to put him in a pick-up
truck to take him off to be beheaded (on video, as
usual), one of the Bad Guys put down his machine gun
so that he could tie the mayor's hands. The mayor
took the opportunity to pick up the machine gun and
drill five of the Bad Guys. The other two ran away.
One of the dead Bad Guys was on our top twenty wanted
list. Like they say, you can't fight City Hall.
Worst Sound -- That crack-boom off in the distance
that means an IED or mine just went off. You just
wonder who got it, hoping that it was a near miss
rather than a direct hit. Hear it practically every
day.
Second Worst Sound -- Our artillery firing without
warning. The howitzers are pretty close to where I
work. Believe me, outgoing sounds a lot like incoming
when our guns are firing right over our heads. They'd
about knock the fillings out of your teeth.
Only Thing Better in Iraq Than in the U.S. --
Sunsets. Spectacular. It's from all the dust in the
air.
Proudest Moment -- It's a tie every day, watching our
Marines produce phenomenal intelligence products that
go pretty far in teasing apart Bad Guy operations in
al-Anbar. Every night Marines and Soldiers are
kicking in doors and grabbing Bad Guys based on
intelligence developed by our guys. We rarely lose a
Marine during these raids, they are so well-informed
of the objective. A bunch of kids right out of high
school shouldn't be able to work so well, but they
do.
Happiest Moment -- Well, it wasn't in Iraq. There are
no truly happy moments here. It was back in
California when I was able to hold my family again
while home on leave during July.
Most Common Thought -- Home. Always thinking of home,
of my great wife and the kids. Wondering how everyone
else is getting along. Regretting that I don't write
more. Yep, always thinking of home.
I hope you all are doing well. If you want to do
something for me, kiss a cop, flush a toilet, and
drink a beer. I'll try to write again before too long
-- I promise.