“In war, truth is the first casualty.”
― Aeschylus
Gary Knight, April 7, 2003
This photograph was taken moments after this position in the unfinished Baghdad suburb of Dyala came under artillery barrage. I had watched the shells ‘walk’ in and was lying in a depression in the ground on the other side of the wall on the right as the shells crashed in. It was like an earthquake – so loud and so terrifying waiting for them to hit. I have been shelled in many places over the years and it’s the most terrifying thing. I always imagine I can outwit a man who can see me and is trying to kill me with something as small as a bullet, but with artillery, it’s all a question of luck. I saw the turret of the APC fly into the air. Read more
On Aug. 8, 2007, then-Spc. Jeremiah Church was assigned as a reconnaissance platoon machine gunner with the 82d Airborne Division. The group’s mission was to restore the flow of water to a village near Baqubah, Iraq; however, they were met by an insurgent ambush. Church told journalist Tim Holbert, “It might sound a little crazy, but the hair on the back of my neck was standing up, and something didn’t feel right in my stomach.” Read more
In late June 2006, a routine insurgent patrol in Fallujah’s Anbar province turned into a different mission for Petty Officer 2nd Class Christopher Walsh.
A hidden bomb went off during the sweep and Walsh, along with the rest of his platoon, set off to find the triggerman by going door to door in the nearest village.
From one of the houses, a woman emerged carrying an infant, alerting the Marines that she had a sick baby. Read more
John Ismay was in the business of tracking explosives and bombs in surge-era Iraq. His first week there introduced him to an open secret: Coalition forces routinely found chemical weapons, and within a month, a soldier in his unit suffered a mustard blister on his leg the size of his hand. Read more
On this day in 2003, U.S. Army Private Jessica Lynch, a prisoner-of-war who was rescued from an Iraqi hospital, receives a hero’s welcome when she returns to her hometown of Palestine, West Virginia. The story of the 19-year-old supply clerk, who was captured by Iraqi forces in March 2003, gripped America; however, it was later revealed that some details of Lynch’s dramatic capture and rescue might have been exaggerated. Read more
“He never intended to be a hero. Like many others, he graduated from a dire street life to gain confidence, purpose and friendship serving with the Army. He performed his duties with grit and conviction while eagerly awaiting civilian life filled with new hope. He never expected to become a symbol of Operation Iraqi Freedom.”
“This has never been done before…taking a dog from your enemies and making him work for you. Fluffy was not a rescue; he was a sentry dog,” Fluffy’s handler Sgt. First Class Russell Joyce recently e-mailed me about his Army buddy.
This is a soldier’s tale. His name: Fluffy.
The U.S. Army Special Forces fight in the front lines of our nation’s war on terrorism. The unit found guard dogs an essential terrorist deterrent while chasing al-Qaeda in Afghanistan. So when the Iraqi ground war began, the team sought another dog to watch their flanks.
“We enlisted the help of the Kurdish people with whom we were working. A few days later, the Kurds brought an underweight German Shepherd who obviously had been neglected and abused. The dog was very scared and nervous. The dog was previously in the care of the Iraqi. He had been beaten, and we could see the obvious scars over his face and legs,” Joyce wrote.
Soon Joyce gained the drafted dog’s trust using kindness, food and positive reward training. “In only two weeks, he could correctly walk patrol, meaning he stayed on my left and would stop when I stopped, and he would look at the direction I pointed to. He was even becoming very protective of Americans,” Joyce said
While the name “Fluffy” lacks Special Forces machismo, the name suits him. After the dog survived two enemy skirmishes, some in the squad proposed the name Lucky. “I made a joke about changing his name to Fluffy, and when I said, ‘Fluffy,’ he looked right at me. That’s when it hit me that he seemed to like the name and my kids would as well.” Joyce said. Joyce planned to bring his Army buddy home with him after their tour. In the past, a veteran war dog’s return to civilian life would have been impossible; they were either “abandoned in place” or euthanized. In 2000, President Clinton signed the Military Working Dog Adoption Act, which allowed retired military dogs to be adopted by their handlers.
“Two weeks before my return home, I thought I had my T’s crossed and my I’s dotted. I got ready to board the plane home when I was told Fluffy could not go. I scrambled to find another K-9 unit and asked them to hold him for me until I could work out the problem. They could only hold him for three days. The ride home was a scary one. I was not sure what would happen to Fluffy. I just felt like I had let him down,” Joyce wrote.
Animals have been conscripted into human warfare since ancient times. Elephants, the world’s first “tanks,” helped Hannibal crush the Romans. During World War II, pachyderms replaced bulldozers in the jungles, and in war-torn Germany, zoo elephants plowed fields. Oxen, cows, mules, camels and even reindeer have been enlisted as pack animals. Horses supported calvary, infantry and supply lines throughout history until armored vehicles offered more horse power. Still today, special American and Northern Alliance forces on horseback chase Taliban across rugged Afghanistan mountains.
Before the Air Force came the “pigeon force” to provide communication and chemical detection. During World War I, “pigeon-cam” (pigeons outfitted with cameras) enabled aerial surveillance of enemy troops. The U.S. Army Air Corps considered unleashing squadrons of kamikaze bats rigged with fire bombs against the Japanese, but that idea never flew.
For ages, cats sailed ships and prowled trenches to kill disease-laden rats. Rodents, too, performed their duty by chewing Nazi wires. Industrious spiders spun fine silk used as cross hairs for Allied bomber sites. In Operation Iraqi Freedom, dolphins locate underwater mines and escort ships safely to port. Sea lions patrol offshore for intruders and can chase enemy divers on to shore. (Link to page two below).
Many of the stories I share here are sent to my email by veterans; This happens to be one of them. Stories like this need to be told and retold, especially now with the current news flooding us with scandals and setbacks. (One being Iraq’s current status, which ironically is where this Sailor gave his all for his brothers and country). Rest Easy, Michael.
Michael Anthony Monsoor (April 5, 1981 – September 29, 2006) was a United States Navy SEAL who was killed during the Iraq War and posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor.Monsoor enlisted in the United States Navy in 2001 and graduated from Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training in 2004. After further training he was assigned to Delta Platoon, SEAL Team Three. Read more
A Marine veteran relives a moment when war and surrealism converged in Iraq.
By Mikko Carranza
When I open my eyes, I wonder if I’m dreaming. This entire operation has seemed unreal from the start.It is pitch black and silent. I loosen the top of my sleeping bag, and my fingers reach out to feel the icy metallic floor. I move my body and bump into full ammo boxes. I remember now, I fell asleep in a Humvee.
The author in Iraq
Everyone else wanted to bed down on a floor, not in a vehicle seat. But enemy mortar fire has been constant, and I refused to sleep in the abandoned three-story building we parked next to. I feel safer with four inches of steel over my head.
We have lost four Marines since this assault started on Halloween. Twelve more have been seriously injured. Back home, a civilian might live from paycheck to paycheck; I try to stay alive from holiday to holiday. I’m just trying to make it to Thanksgiving, only one week away.
I have all the gear that makes a warrior. My Humvee is my warhorse. My Kevlar is my helmet, and my flak is the armor that protects my heart. I have boots to march me into battle. My M16 is my “thunder maker,” so called for the thunderous cracks it makes when fired. My sole luxury item is an oversized sweater that bears the Marine Corps crescent of an eagle guarding the world. At night, my sweater doubles as my pillow.
Why am I up? The sun hasn’t risen. Ohhhhhhh… Nature calls, even when you’re in war. I slip on my sweater; the sleeves are baggy and the elastic seams hug my wrists and hips. I crawl out of my sleeping bag. The cold chills my legs while I fumble around for my boots.
The Humvee’s steel doors are heavy, especially for a feather weight. But I know how to use my 120-pound frame. I give a grunt and slowly push.
With my final shove, the door opens and I fall over. I quickly recover and raise my arms before it swings back and crushes me.
I am still not completely awake. I start to walk toward the latrine area, but get only eight or nine steps when the night lights up. My shadow appears before me, three stories high against the building wall. I look behind me and see four Humvees illuminated by bright white flashes. Multiple blasts stun me. It’s mortar fire. I know that sound anywhere.
Photos: Mikko Carranza
I spin in a circle, looking for cover. I’m smack between the building and my Humvee, and I’m too groggy to decide which direction to run. My ears start ringing, and I realize that the mortar rounds must have been closer than I thought. I’m amazed that I’m not dead yet.
Photos: Mikko Carranza
Explosions and more white flashes are coming faster. I don’t know if I’m frozen in my boots, or if my brain is processing faster than my body can move.
Marines in full armor rush about. Another series of blasts and flashes, then I come to my senses.
We’re not under attack. A Marine mortar team is firing into the city, and I’m underneath the fire arc. They must have set up a fire pit behind the Humvee while I slept.
A mortar flare pops in the distant sky. It’s like a red star that floats above the city, lighting up the buildings around us. All turns quiet and movement slows to a crawl.
A soft red glow basks the building next to me. My double shadow dances along the dirt road, stretching farther as the red star sinks behind this ancient city.
As I look at my shadow, I take stock of myself. No thunder maker, no armor, and no helmet. All of it still in the Humvee that I stumbled out of moments before. Instead, I stand frozen in place, wearing nothing but my unlaced boots, baggy sweater, and tighty whities turned pink by the fading flare.
The red star burns out, the city falls back into pitch black and all is silent. There is nothing, as if in a dream.
The author deployed to Iraq from September to December 2005, and June 2007 to May 2008. He is now a communications major at California State University – Sacramento.
(Published November 26, 2009, on New America Media)
Earlier, while looking for a post for “Today in History” I came across a 3 second blurb about, then president G. W. Bush who made a tailhook landing on the USS Abraham Lincoln (aircraft carrier) to address the Sailors and other military personnel–announcing the end of the conflict in Iraq back in 2003–I can see why there isn’t much being said of this event today. Well, I’ve never been the type to tip-toe around the truth or the emotions that may ensue from said truth–so I’m bringing it up–and I’ve included pictures and the YouTube video of the speech. Enjoy.
When soldiers kill in war, the secret shame and guilt they bring back home can destroy them
November 2004, against a shattered wall in south Fallujah in Iraq, with video rolling, I conduct a battlefield interview with US Marine Corporal William Wold. He has just shot six men dead inside a room adjoining a mosque and is juiced with a mix of adrenaline and relief. Continue reading
Ashley Gilbertson is a photographer with the VII photo agency, and a principal at Shell Shock Pictures. Gilbertson’s photographs from Iraq where he worked from 2002 until 2008, gained him recognition from the Overseas Press Club who awarded Gilbertson the prestigious Robert Capa Gold Medal. His first book, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, was released in 2007.
This story was brought to my attention today via Google Plus. I was asked to share it here if I thought it was worthy and after reading it, I feel it is.
This is a letter written to President Obama by a triple amputee veteran.
Brian Kolfage volunteered to protect our freedoms. He asked for nothing in return. Brian paid the price with the loss of his 2 legs and an arm
Once again, Brian stood for the country he loves and risked consequences of “fall-back” by sending his stunningly profound letter to the only tyrant president America has ever known.Read more
THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE, IT MAKES MY SKIN CRAWL HOW OUR VETERANS ARE TREATED…
Speaking from prison, Iraqi war veteran Andrew “Sarge” Chambers tells the story of how he got there. As the judge told him when he sentenced Chambers to 10 years at Marion Correctional: “Your time in Iraq makes you a threat to society.” Chambers reminds us of the sacrifices that linger with soldiers — and simply asks us to listen.
We lose more veterans/active duty personnel to suicide per day than we do to KIA. What does this say about the mental health system that is available to them? What does this say about the government that sent them into these conflicts and it’s ability and fortitude to make sure the programs and money are available to them? They have failed our defenders in the worst way. A retired Desert Storm Navy veteran & friend told me of a letter that was written by a Soldier in June of 2013 to his family explaining why he had to take his life; but it wasn’t a suicide in Daniel’s eyes. for him it was a mercy killing. The feelings he expressed in his letter are the same as so many other veterans coming home from war. My friend recognized them in himself. A brief description and Daniel’s letter is as follows:Read Daniels letter
Maiden on the Midway 
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