The Meat Grinder

Journal Entry Wednesday 19 January 2011

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Journal Entry Wed 19 January
It’s been a couple of days since my previous entry . No real reason for the lapse other than that I’ve simply succumbed to exhaustion laced with a touch of laziness. Monday was our last day at Camp Leatherneck. A handful of us spent the better part of the morning looking for a free haircut and a bazaar that would be willing to haggle. We ventured off to Camp Bastion, a camp teaming with foreigners. Each time we stopped to ask directions the lieutenant in the back seat would inquire as to the whereabouts of the barber shop in his best, not to mention loudly spoken English. If the person he was talking to did not understand him, would only speak louder and slower. Funny thing is that all the guys we spoke to were British.
That evening, I went back to the division headquarters at Leatherneck to say one last goodbye to some old friends. We took photos, exchanged pleasantries, and promised to link up in the very near future. The promises are always well intended, but inevitably, life gets in the way. The sad thing is that in this line of work, you never know when a goodbye will be the last. I’ve had several friends that have sacrificed their lives in the name of freedom over the last few years. Gunnery Sergeant Terry Ball was one of my Platoon Sergeants when I was a Lieutenant. He was the kind of leader that could dress down a Marine in one moment and build him right back up the next. We were in 3/8 together for the second time when he was killed. I saw him when he came through the battalion command post; he had that grin on his face like always did. I told him I’d come out to his company to see him the next day. The next day he was gone, killed by an Improvised Explosive Device (IED). Captain James Edge was one of those guys that everyone liked. We were at The Basic School at around the same time, but our paths didn’t cross until we were at the Expeditionary Warfare School together. He talked his wife into giving him a pass to come have dinner with me when I was out in California for a visit. We had a couple of beers and played catch-up before parting ways. Jamie was killed by a sniper in Iraq just a few months later. Alan Rowe, Doug Zembiec, and Ray Mendoza were guys I had known since we were lieutenants. Alan was killed in an IED strike on September 3, 2004. Ray Mendoza stepped on a mine on November 14, 2005 while on a combat mission with his Marines. Doug was killed trying to rescue someone during a firefight May 11, 2007. These guys were true warriors in every sense of the word. Their Marines would follow them to hell and back without hesitation. When I picture them in my minds eye, I can still see their smiles.
The last person I saw at Leatherneck was my buddy, Ed Garland. Although I’d made the trek to see him several times without success, I had to make one last attempt before leaving Leatherneck for good. As luck would have it, he was in a meeting when I showed up. I passed the time by calling my sweetheart to check in on her and the kiddos. I’m glad I called when I did for all communications would be shut down for most of that night. I finally made link up with Ed and we got to talk for some time, then things got fairly hectic in his office. One of his Marines began tracking and reporting three very serious casualties. The base went into a communications blackout known as “River City”. During “River City” all communication links to the outside world are shut down. This is done to allow time for formal notification to be made to a spouse back home that his or her loved one has passed. The look on Ed’s face when he read the initial reports said it all. The night’s events were catastrophic. An IED blast resulted in one Marine receiving multiple shrapnel wounds, one double lower extremity amputee, and one “hero”. Not that there’s any good way to die, but here in Afghanistan your departure from this earth can be exceptionally horrific. This place is truly a meat grinder in every sense of the phrase. The enemy here builds these weapons for the sole purpose of killing you or making you wish you were dead. Those who survive the deadly blasts go home with missing limbs or eyes, severe burns, and/or traumatic brain injuries (TBI) so severe that they are never the same again.
It’s sad. You see them all over Camp Lejeune; Marines with hideous burns, shrapnel and bullet wounds, and missing body parts. Those are just the visible scars. Countless others suffer silently from post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) or TBI. One friend of mine suffers from TBI so bad that he’s not sure where he’ll wake up from one day to the next. For the country, this war may be over in the next couple of years, but many Marines will continue to fight in their dreams, in their nightmares.

This hymn is for them:

Eternal Father, Strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bid'st the mighty Ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
O hear us when we cry to thee,
for those in peril on the sea.

Eternal Father, grant, we pray
To all Marines, both night and day,
The courage, honor, stregnth, and skill
Their land to serve, thy law fulfill;
Be thou the shield forevermore
From every peril to the Corps.

Amen.