A Calm Before the Sand...

I mentioned this blog once before...A Calm Before the Sand. It's written by an Army soldier currently stationed in Iraq. He does write under an assumed name because he would get into trouble. Anyway, I was checking in over there as I often do and this post completely went into my soul. I would like you all to read it and REALLY absorb it and think about what he is saying here. Just to clarify one thing for you, down in the post he refers to a thing called AAFES. For those of you that don't know what that is, it stand for Army Air Force Exchange Service. Basically, it's a department of the military that runs the stores, barber shops, service stations, etc...

Enjoy and go visit his blog. I have the link on my links section, but just incase:

http://calmbeforethesand.blogspot.com

Sunday, August 26, 2007
Go Back to Sleep
Outside the Wire, factions of every stripe are making the rounds. In the last year, all over Iraq, they've begun to systematically target the very elements of infrastructure my unit was put in place to maintain. This is not the work of some rabble, mind you--these are coordinated attacks, often occurring within minutes or hours of each other, at locations at opposite ends of the country. The results are felt everywhere--missions disrupted, supply-lines crippled. At my level, the result has been a number of 40-plus hour workdays, scrambling to prepare for missions that have to be executed with a minimum of planning, support, or sleep. As another result, the role of my section--Site Reconnaissance--has been waylaid, thus preventing us from gathering critical information on said structures. Instead, I'm at another location--arguably, granted, a mortar-free vacation--trying to scare up equipment so we can actually KEEP doing our job. Resources grow scarcer by the day. Nobody talks about it. In the barracks, in the DFAC, or on the news. The Surge Is Going Just Fine. Nothing To Worry About, People. Nobody realizes the bind we're in. Nobody realizes that we are potentially a few coordinated attacks away from Non-Mission Capability. I found myself thinking about this recently, of all places, in the House of Pain Gym. It was a weekday, and I was busy with my core workout. Midway through a set of diamond pushups, I had to pause. Music was playing over the speakers, of course, but what surprised me was the CD in the player--"Thirteenth Step" by A Perfect Circle, a personal favorite. In a place where the dominant forms of music entertainment are either Country or Hip-Hop, such a decidedly art-rock selection surprised me. A line from one of my favorite songs from that album, "The Outsider": "Disconnect and self-destruct, one bullet at a time." Eerily appropriate. Nobody else noticed, it seemed. All around me, girls moved between the water coolers and the cardio machines, while muscleheads grunted and grappled with weights as big as myself. It struck me as strange, like the AFN public-service ad I saw while on R&R; it talked about a legendary Confederate Civil War hero for whom a major Army post is named. The song playing over the ad was Arlo Guthrie's "Alice's Restaurant," a major Vietnam-era protest song. "Who picks these songs?" I wondered at the time, as I did again at the gym? Is someone actually aware of the irony? Is it a small pocket of resistance? Or are we just that numb to it? It got worse this evening. I've spent my time over the years listening to friend's copies of "Thirteenth Step," having been unable to find one for myself. However, another pleasant surprise today, this time at the PX. A fresh copy; the only one on the shelves. I lunged upon it, and immediately took it home for a listen. As much as I hate AAFES, they do sometimes surprise me, as they did recently with carrying Tori Amos' "American Doll Posse." Having not visited the CD in a few years, it had slipped my mind just exactly WHAT tracks were on the disc. Track ten, "Pet," however, jarred me back to memories of the gym, and of the concerted effort by my comrades back in Balad to ignore the difficulties we face. The lyrics, too angry to be anyone but Maynard's, set haunting and melodic and perfect against Jeordie(aka Twiggy Ramirez)'s bass and Billy Howerdel's guitar: "Lay your head down child I won't let the boogeymen come Count their bodies like sheep To the rhythm of the war drums Pay no mind to the rabble Pay no mind to the rabble Head down, go to sleep To the rhythm of the war drums " .... "I'll be the one to protect you from Your enemies and all your demons I'll be the one to protect you from A will to survive and a voice of reason I'll be the one to protect you from Your enemies and your choices son They're one and the same I must isolate you Isolate and save you from yourself." We are addicted to war. Its entrenchment in our view of foreign policy is so deep it astounds me. We think nothing of the death or suffering of others; only of our own interests. It's a message that it blared at us a thousand times a day in the news, and on the Internet, and even in our own History classes. And yet everywhere I turn, it seems like none of my comrades notice. Until finally, you can play a protest song in a warzone, in a gym full of soldiers, and not one will even react. "Stay with me Safe and ignorant Just stay with me I'll hold you and protect you from the other ones, The evil ones don't love you son, Go back to sleep." The irony makes me shiver