Posted on 03/28/2003 5:25:47 AM PST by TigerLikesRooster
L.T. SMASH LIVE FROM THE SANDBOX 28 March 2003
Moving On Ran into a member of my (now former) team today.
"How's it going?" I asked.
"Good, Sir," he replied. "Wish you weren't leaving the team."
"Thanks." I had to walk away. My eyes were watering.
Probably just the sand in the air.
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27 March 2003
Passing the Torch This was my last day as the leader of my team.
I’ve been doing this job much longer than anyone else in my unit has. I knew this day was coming. We have a couple of junior officers who are ready to take the reins. My successor is a good man, and I am confident that he will do an excellent job.
Still, it is very difficult to let go.
I spoke to my team before our shift began.
“For most of you, this will be the only time in your life you will be involved in an armed conflict. Treat this mission as if it were the last thing you will ever do in your military career. Don’t hold anything back. The troops on the front lines are counting on you. The people back home are counting on you. The oppressed people of Iraq are counting on you. The success of this mission depends on you.
“You are all consummate professionals, and I have tremendous respect for each and every one of you. It has been an honor and a privilege to be your leader. I take pride in your continued success.”
I’m a little bit sad today. My new job in the unit will be busy and fulfilling, though I will probably never again have such a direct and involved leadership role in my military career.
But it’s time to move on. There's work to do.
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25 March 2003
Local Flavor Met with some of the locals again today.
They were excited. They are anticipating the end of Saddam’s evil regime even more than we are.
They were glued to their satellite TV set, switching between Al-Jazeera, FOX News, BBC, the local station, and Iraqi TV. They especially enjoyed the female anchor on FOX, with her short skirt.
“What city?” One asked, pointing at the woman on the TV.
“New York.”
“I must go there!” They all laughed.
Switched to the Iraqi station. An Iraqi general was giving a briefing. He had dark circles under his eyes, and was looking around the room as if he was frightened for his life. Probably hadn’t slept in days.
They translated some of his statements, for my benefit. The general was making outrageous claims of victory on all fronts, which were met with cries of “Bulls—t!” from my hosts. They mocked him.
Switched to BBC. The anchor announced that the port city of Umm Qasr had been secured, and would be receiving humanitarian supplies within days.
“Sir, is it true,” they asked me, “is Umm Qasr secured?”
“That’s what he said.”
“Can we go there?” This puzzled me.
“Why would you want to go there?”
“Dancing girls! Beer!”
Then it hit me – Umm Qasr is a border town. For these men, it holds memories of a different time, a time before war, when they could travel freely to Iraq, and do all the things not allowed in their own country.
Umm Qasr is their Tijuana.
I was invited to stay for lunch, and I could not refuse. They served roasted chicken on a bed of rice, with curry spices. The food was on communal plates, and they weren’t at all shy about using their hand to eat – but only their right hand. Desert was chopped dates.
I was torn away, all too soon, by a call on my radio.
Back to work.
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Thomas Mullen Adams 1975-2003 Adams, a Lieutenant in the US Navy, was killed early Sunday morning when two British Sea King helicopters collided shortly after takeoff from a ship in the Persian Gulf.
A descendant of two presidents and a graduate of the US Naval Academy, Adams was a Naval Flight Officer participating in an exchange program with the Royal Navy. He was 27 years old.
Among many other things, he was a good friend to my brother.
The Navy Hymn
Eternal Father, strong to save Whose arm hath bound the restless wave Who bids the mighty ocean deep Its own appointed limits keep Oh, hear us when we cry to thee For those in peril on the sea!
My thoughts and prayers go out to his family and friends.
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24 March 2003
Food Glorious Food Man cannot live on MREs alone.
Well, actually he can, but it gets tedious. Fortunately, we don’t have that problem. We’re still getting one or two hot meals every day, and the care packages are pouring in. Today we were blessed with homemade cookies, fudge, and endless supplies of snack mix and other junk food.
For dinner we had baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and mixed vegetables.
We even have Girl Scout Cookies (thanks Patrick)!
I heard a report that our advancing troops came across a group of three ragged Iraqi soldiers, who had been living under a highway bridge. They surrendered without offering any resistance.
They had been surviving on tomatoes foraged from a nearby farm.
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Liberation An officer returned from recently liberated Iraqi territory.
His men were met with no resistance whatsoever. The Iraqis had been in a strong defensive position, and had seen his men coming.
But they welcomed them as liberators.
Liberators with food.
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23 March 2003
Life During Wartime Still working about 13-14 hours every day. Haven't had a break since Christmas.
Caught the news this afternoon. Looks like things are going well, for the most part.
Reports of deaths and casualties bring mixed emotions. Sadness at the injury or loss of fellow warriors. Relief at the low numbers reported.
Hope this ends quickly. But things might get sticky as we close in on the prize.
I'm keeping my gas mask within reach.
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22 March 2003
And the Beat Goes On Only a couple of missile alerts today. And those were false alarms.
Still working hard, but the major portion of our job here is now complete. It's up to the front line troops, now.
Even so, I'm not going home anytime soon.
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21 March 2003
In the Air Tonight It’s quieter now.
I can hear distant jet engines, high up in the night sky.
But there are no navigation lights.
Goodnight Saddam.
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Staying Alive We've had several missile alerts in the past twenty-four hours. Eight or nine, I think. Even so, I managed to get an almost reasonable amount of sleep last night. It's not hard to sleep when you're exhausted.
I'm nowhere near the front lines, but I can hear the occasional BOOM.
No, hear isn't the right word. I FEEL them.
Wouldn't want to be on the other side right now.
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Bump!
Local Flavor Met with some of the locals again today.This is great! A report with no media handwringing. Is this blog ongoing, and if so, would you mind adding the daily updates to this thread? Notice they're watching Fox News!They were excited. They are anticipating the end of Saddam’s evil regime even more than we are.
They were glued to their satellite TV set, switching between Al-Jazeera, FOX News, BBC, the local station, and Iraqi TV. They especially enjoyed the female anchor on FOX, with her short skirt. “New York.”
“I must go there!” They all laughed.
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