Thursday, August 30, 2007

Another night in Iraq

It started off like any other night, and like many other nights in the dead of night we got attacked. It was slightly impressive because it came from two directions.; Still it was easy at first to put off the *crack* but for their intensity. they were definatly shooting at us. then the RPG hit. well you just can't take that lying down. So I doing what every good soldier does, got my crap on and prepaired to throw some hot lead down range. The 240 B opened up. And i always love it when those fuckers light off. But to see tracers goin g both ways, then seeing the entire mortar platoon open up from the roof, well it's weird but it's amazing how something so destructive and deadly can be so pretty.

I sat there enthralled by the destruction being loosed by our side, to the relitivly inept Iraqi attack. Still it nowhere near approached the pure orgy of destruction when the last raid was on. We had .50 cals, Mk 19's, 240 B's, 249's, m-4's and a few 203's. Baisically every weapon system short of AT-4's. The shher mass of fire was overwhelming, and there i sat in the middle laughing. As if this were some grand old adventure. But it was deadly serious.

I suppose that there are some things in life that can not be explained. But it was as if i were surounded by trigger happy fools, and i was just as trigger happy. to revle in the destruction, the sheer destructive potential, daring Hajj, Come, Come to me you little bastards. Come and meet your death. Until you are the cause of that kind of onslaught, you can not appriciate the feeling. people might say "how callous" or "that's horrible" but to be on the rising tide of destruction, you can not help but smile. I am power, I am the sword, and where i swing limbs will fall away, buildings will fall, and i will still stand stong and silent.

It was not until after it was over that i realized how keyed up i was. Weather it was from nerves, or sheer adrenalin, i was shaking all over. I didn't feel fear. I felt a child like wonder, followed by a need to know if anyone was injured, and hoping that they were iraqi. The saddest part about this is that there is a feeling that well if this shit is really lost (as the democrats would say) then we should at least rack up a respectible body count.

I wonder at times, did they feel like this in Vietnam? did they revle so in the destruction of the enemy, has it always been like this. Once the fear leaves and you have only the mission you have to complete before they'll let you go home.

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