My War Journal into the PISTOL CIRCUS
May 15: The SOF life the Hard Way: Saying goodbye to your issue…Saying good bye, maybe forever to your soul mate… I hate this shit. then getting on the white bus and saying hello to your gun, your kit and your bros… I love this shit.
May 17: Traveling to War on that white bus..I feel closer and more attached to the jihad than I do the omega phi delta ki frat knuckle fuck who beats off to call of duty.
May 27: I walked into the Afghan Army barracks… And it was as though I walked into a European hostel… Smelling the cum and fear. They offer tea like a hand shake. I take it. Is my glock awake? I am.
June 3: Something called addiction. I can remember a time when FID was FID. Now it’s don’t get shot in the back when you look away. The rules changed. I don’t know when or how they changed but some might say between Madonna material girl and saved by the bell re-runs. Whenever it did change… We know it’s not John Wayne’s FID anymore. It’s unforgiving. Wondering if you’re meeting a friend or the person who will introduce you to your maker.
June 23: Nothing in this world fills the craving parasympathetic soul like a freshly lit cigarette after a long hard fought gun fight. Victory.
July 6: That feeling of getting off the bird and rolling into a hard hit which is like merging onto the highway and as you hear that first crack overhead you are moving into the fast lane proactively keeping up with the flow of traffic.
July 7: There are very few traffic laws that govern the roads of gun slinging… Put your foot down, stay in your lane, check your blind spot, go until it dead ends, no fucking u-turns except to back clear, loud music when necessary, reggae the rest of time, rain or shine windows down, know when to exit, avoid rubbernecking the canoe head, don’t stop for anything or anyone,….. don’t ever ever ever tailgate or run over your fucking bro.
Aug 5: May your choices reflect your hopes not your fears.
Aug 18: Walk silently. Act violently. Observe everything. Admire nothing.
Aug 25: Where would a soldier be without thinking of sex while smoking a cigarette…. A grand gesture of what it means to be a human being.
Sept 9: I come home and I long to kiss the nape of my wife’s neck and whisper in her ear…
Sept 10: Battlefield feelings. Fear. Love. Polar opposites of living and dying that breed together under the hot sun.
Sept 15 (journaled 16): Train how you fight. You will never rise to the occasion you will always fall back on your training. when you fall it falls fast,.. ambushed by an insider fuck stick 10 feet away at your direct 5. He opens up with a 203 but it’s too close to get the spin cycle to detonate, then he switches to high octane 5.56 on full blast, he changes mags before you get your head out of your ass. this isn’t like anything you’ve done. this isn’t the countless number of battles and hard hits you’ve been on, this isn’t the traffic merge comparison of moving into battle no bro this is something new and different and the course of its violence has overwhelmed you so much that if it wasn’t your ass on the cliff of defeat it would almost define the marine corps doctrine of seek close with and destroy, those words have different meaning when on the other side. now you find yourself going zero to fucking 180 and doing everything you can do to just react and stay alive. The complete opposite of what we’ve ever been trained to do. The complete opposite of the lust fed feeling of being on the side of victory…
Sept 15 (Journaled 16) AMBUSHED:::: WHAT THE FUCK::: NEGLIGENT DISCHARGE YOU STUPID MOTHERFU……..Your ears bleed your now liquified brain from fear. your reactions are fixated on the two sand flies hovering around the moonbeam 100 yards away. you tell yourself to move and the only feeling you notice are the masticated buzz of your nuts as they shrink inside your empty belly. get off the x you tell yourself, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, feels like a sledge hammer to the knee (you’ve been shot at point blank range but you don’t compute), get off the x you miserably son of a bitch, get rounds down range, kill these mother fuckers, SLEDGE HAMMER PAIN AGAIN (this time to the shoulder), FUcK I think Ive been SHOT, this isn’t the cold ice pick of pain I’ve been taught, fucking liars, FUCK, get off the x, some one kill these mother fuckers, FUCK IT, get of the x, get rounds down range, FUCK IT, where is my team, they’re all dead, they’ve gotta be dead, were all suppressed and this attack is violently loud…. fuck IT, get off the x, get some fucking rounds down range (I reach for the glock on my hip) how many are there, find cover, where did they get endless mags, I can’t move, Ive got 3 pounds of primed C4 on my back,.. not cool,.. fuck you [REDACTED] (your EOD man), fire mother fucker fire, get the fuck off the x, every one else is dead, fuck IT,………… ……….. ……… IS THIS IT.. FUCK YOU KEEP GOING,…………… This is serious, this isn’t serious, shut the fuck up pussy, SLEDGE HAMMER PAIN FUUUUUUUUUUUCK, GET. THE. FUCK. OFF. THE. X.. can’t move, ……fuck can’t see,,… GOD,.. …… theres my family,…….. fuck this is it.. I…. can touch them,,…. theyre waving good bye, a sad smile with tears,.. fuck IM SO SORRY….,.. I LOVE YOU……..GOD take care of my babies,…… GOD be with my wife,.. FUCK this dirt hole country,.. ..GET OFF THE X YOU PUSSY MOTHER FUCKER… FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT…..,.. (FADING,.. FADING… FADING.. don’t know where my name was) ……GOD…is this it????… I love you, (I feel the drenched gravel of blood and know liters of blood are gone.. I’m slipping into uncompensated shock as my organs begin to triage..) They’re zero’d in…. Im bracketed.. whats taking so long…FINISH IT YOU AMATEUR MOTHERFUcKER. we trained them better than this…. hahahah fucking JV…… FUUUUUUUUUUUCK…… Lights are about to go out… keep crawling.. keeping crawling you hard ass mother fucker… youre a fucking SARC…. FUUUUUCK…. Baby… Baby….. … I love you…. I roll over to say good night as I bleed the fuck out,….. and see my other element moving gliding out of the darkness,… moving to contact, nods down, guns up…. ready for DISCO.
TEAM::: ”[REDACTED]—— where you at, stay down homie,.. you’ve been shot??,”.. (yeah no shit) “youre bleeding bad!!!” (yeah no shit) “ME: you might wanna NOT use me as cover.. Ive got C4 on my back” “[REDACTED]: “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” “3 tangos 12-3 20 yards, fire fire fire fire, tango down, fire fire fire tango down, squirter 8 o’clock 20 yards, fire fire fire fire fire fire tango down tango down, shooter moving—move!!, [REDACTED] you with me” (barely bro) “[REDACTED] we gotta get you outta here” (yeah no shit asshole, don’t criq me motherfucker), “[REDACTED] I NEED YOU TO STAND THE FUCK UP!!” “4 [REDACTED] OM, 1 [REDACTED] WIA, 1 [REDACTED] KIA, 3 [REDACTED] KIA, 1 TERP KIA, 4 TANGOS EKIA. Moving to you”
Sept 18: You know you’re going to survive when the FEAR is replaced with PAIN. FEAR is GOOD,.. PAIN is BETTER…… NEVER OUTTA THE FIGHT!!!!
Sept 19: [REDACTED] giving you a Purple Heart is DOPE… Dilaudid self drip is Real DOPE!
Sept 24: Who we are is what we leave behind. Happy Birthday to me from Germany.
Sept 25: Happy Anniversary baby…. daddy is coming home.
Oct 1: The duality of a warriors heart goes something like this.. when you’re home, even close moments with your woman are spent just thinking of down range romances you play with the devil. All you can do is pray you’ll be blessed to step into the fray once more. Meanwhile, when you’re down range romancing with the devil… All you long for is the feel of your woman under your lips and pray for the gods to give you a second chance. The warrior does this on repeat his entire life. Its not until he realizes the devil lives inside him and the real romance is with himself is he then free to live a life in peace.
Mar 10: Just found out. We lost dudes in Florida. 7 of em. All hitters. My Team Leader who pulled me from the tall grass and denied my trip across the river….is dead….
Mar 11: Why do we do it… the wives…. the mothers……. sons and daughters without daddy. Forever Gone. For what???
May 15: Ill tell you why… the LOVE of the PISTOL CIRCUS.