mld, November 10, 2003 at 6:47:00 PM CET

Happy Birthday, Marines!

"Here's to the Soldiers of the Sea, And the ladies of our land. May their ships ever be well-armed, And their ladies ever well-manned."

On this day in 1775 the Marine Corps was born. The first Marine recruiter, Capt. Robert Mullen, set up shop in Tun tavern, in Philadelphia, thus establishing the linkage of Marines and watering holes that continues to this very day. :-)

Since then, millions of Marines have proudly worn the globe and anchor, and many thousands have, in that service, died far from home and family, some quickly, some only after prolonged agony. Others have endured wounds, physical or spiritual, that made a return to peaceful normality impossible, and suffered for their service until the day they died.

That is the harsh reality of the service; sooner or later, we as a political entity, the United States, for the greater common good, take some of our young men, and toss them into meatgrinders of fire and lead, hellholes like Belleau Wood and Tarawa and Inchon, and now, Fallujah and Tikrit, from which many will not return. They suffer and die so that we may continue to live in the peace and comfort that is the norm for most in our nation, and to try to extend that peace and comfort to those that do not yet have it.

Semper Fi, my DevilDog brothers, especially those of you that tonight will be far away from home - hot, cold, exhausted, dirty, afraid, lonely, hungry, footsore, blistered, chafing under the weight of that combat load, hating every minute of being stuck out in the boonies of some forsaken Third World country where they can't seem to get their shit together, where they can't leave behind the religious, tribal or ethnic hatreds behind, where some murderous asshole of a petty tyrant uses them to try and impose his grandiose visions on the locals, and the only thing preventing him from doing so is you and your buddies and your willingness to trek the Hard Road with your M-16, and shove it up his power-mad ass and pull the trigger if need be.

Hang in there. Someday soon you'll be back here in the Land of the Big PX, and you'll do what I'll be doing tonight - having a few beers for me, and then drinking a few for you, too, since I know that's what you'd want me to do. You too, will sit back and recall your old buds, those that made it back OK, and those that didn't, and toast them all, taking your place as another link in the long chain of the Men that have kept us free.

 

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mld, October 30, 2003 at 3:12:00 PM CET

Christina

Christina is a friend of mine. She lives in a small town in Croatia. We were introduced by another friend of mine a few months back. Sometimes, if I get home from work a bit early, we'll have time to chat for a little while before she needs to hit the rack.

One day a bit back, I asked her about her experiences of the conflict there. She's young enough that she was just a kid then. She protested that she's not a writer, and that her English wasn't very good. I told her I didn't care.

She sent me the following the next day. I have cleaned up a few spelling and grammar errors, (she tends to use the third person instead of the first, I think I caught all those) but have otherwise left it unedited...

Christina's Story

It was a Sunday, the Sunday I will never forget. Mom didn't pressure my sis and me to go to church that day, so we stayed at home, sis was watching a TV, mom was cooking, ordinary Sunday, but, dad and I were busy.

I didn't understand it then, but dad was sure something might happen soon, so with my help, well, I was a kid, so couldn't do much, he lowered the spare bed from the attic to the basement, I filled bottles with water, mom made a bed, warm blankets, pillows, all was ready.

Radio with batteries was down, some food, in cans ~ yuck ~, dad told me to prepare a box with games, and some of the toys, too ~ smiles ~ he was right, we spent lots of our time playing " èovjeæe ne ljuti se ".

Mom called us, said that lunch was ready, dad and I finished the work, we were happy, we finished all up just before the lunch.

My family sat down, we didn't even start to eat, when we heard the sirens, sound that will accompany my days in a future.

We all rushed down in the basement, worried, we didn't know what will happen, mom was crying, sis and I curled up on the bed, dad was calming all down.

That is the day that I will NEVER forget.

War started, cities under the fire, enemy was powerful, Yugoslavia had lots of weapons, JNA army used it soooo well ~ sighs ~.

Girls stopped to go to school, people were forced to leave their homes, many were killed, I looked all that through the eyes of a child, being very happy that she didn't have to go to school ~ shakes head ~ just a silly child.

I was at home, watching TV, listening music, dad still worked at that time, mom was home, taking care of us girls, time passed, alert, then siren that alert is over, sometimes we were forced to go to the basement every few hours, sis and I slept in the basement, it was safer, and mom didn't want to wake up every 2 hours.

After the first shock, things were starting to be more intense, more and more attacks, more injured people, city became "city of souls", all were home, all was closed, stores worked only in a morning, my city became so sad.

Sis and I helped mom with lunch, when dad came home one day, he was in a uniform, mom started to cry, sis and I cried with her, dad was going on the front.

To make it clear, my dad is no warrior, he is a simple hard working man, he always cared for his family, making sure that our family is happy, we were not a rich family, we were never hungry, and meat was on our table every second day.

Dad went to war, leaving mom, sis and I at home. Just before dad left that night, he talked with sis and me, I know how mushy this all sounds, but his words were something like this - my babies, I need to go, I need to protect you, need to make you safe, it's my duty as your father and a member of our country…

Well, point in this is… my dad didn't go to war, so he could invade other country, he only protected his own.

I will never forget how the soup tasted, when I sat at the table, looking at the empty chair, it was salty, soup was salty, it was salty coz tears were rolling down my cheeks and dropped in my soup.

Mom, sis and I were so happy when the sound of telephone would wake them in the middle of the night, they knew that was dad, they knew that he is safe and ALIVE!, he would usually say : I'm okay, dunno when I will be able to go home!.. 3 heads would squeeze around the phone, just to hear the sound of his voice.

That was not easy, I understood what was going on, my friends father was killed, and I prayed that same fate won't catch my dad.

Would you like me to tell You how I held a gun in my hand? ~ smiles~

Dad came home for a weekend, and, finally, things seemed to be better, we visited nana ( dad's mother ), for the first time after a long time, I was happy, so happy, dad was home!!

Nana cooked, and we ate, we were even laughing… and, then dad invited sis and me to go out, quick walk in the woods… we used to do that before so often, but, now.. that sounded like an bad idea.

Mom looked at dad, and he only said; they need to learn…

Sis and I left the house with dad, he said that we wait while he takes some stuff out the car, and so we did.

He had a small hand bag, when he returned to us, I felt something was wrong, and was worried coz mom was so worried.

We entered the wood, didn't talk very much, really, sis and I just knew something is going to happen… and it did…

After a few minutes, dad stopped, turned around to face us… he wanted to teach us how to handle the gun, he teached us how to aim, and how to shoot.

I was shocked first time I used the gun, hands were trembling, but dad guided me gently… it was TT gun, I doesn't know the right name, but, dad used it.

After we returned home, dad placed rounds and the gun in drawer, showing us all where it is, I guessed mom knew where the gun is.

Now, I kinda like guns... tho, dad never let me to use it after that.

I am grateful that my dad is alive, and that members of my family are alive, too, my uncle was captured, but, he was exchanged shortly after capturing, I was present when that happened… it was in a small village called Davor.

I will never forget that day, too.

Or maybe… maybe I should tell you a story about my friend...

My friend is only 2 years older than me, and she was raped in her home, they found her few days later in the woods, almost dead, torn apart, doctors couldn't believe that she was still alive, I saw her in a hospital… and, she didn't look human, Marcus…

They have hurt her so badly… her body was… oh, God..~ sighs ~ well, her body recovered, but, she is not the same person anymore.

It's hard to talk to her now, her life is so sad, Marcus... so sad… she is a young woman, but she, now, she just can't bear it if someone touches her...

 

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