Friday, July 1

News from G. I. Jack

(In case any of you are into first person military writing, here's an excerpt from a journal that G. I. Jack sent me. G. I. Jack is now in Afghanistan with the Marine Corps as part of a peacekeeping/drugraiding unit. I love this guy so much and can't wait to see him come home. For anyone who doubts the intensity of my friends, read the following.)

Friday, June 24


Well yesterday was quite a day. It started off pretty early. We had to have all our vehicles staged at 5 in the morning so we could go and pick somebody up from another firebase and bring them back to J-Bad. Well, turns out we weren't given the correct directions to get to this place so we got a little lost. We actually found out later that this place they wanted us to go to did not in fact even fucking exist. What a way to start your day, huh? So, we go back to where we began. Upon returning, we are immediately told to go and pick up the A 'n A (Afghani Army) for a patrol that we now had to go on. Whatever. We went and picked them up, brought them back, and waited to go out on this patrol. By this time it was around 10 in the morning, so the sun was up, and it was starting to get warm. (The good part is coming up.) So, we go out on this foot patrol, meaning we were walking with a bunch of heavy shit on, (unlike the Afghani fuckers, who only had an Ak-47.) and about 45 minutes into it, this guy by the name of Zeller starts to show signs of heat exhaustion. Doc R. and Ssgt H. had to call back to base and have a humvee come and pick him up and take him back to base, and also resupply us with water. This took about 45 minutes for them to get there. So, we all just sat in the shade drinking water. I downed 5 bottles of water to go on top of the other 5 bottles i downed before the patrol. After they came and picked Zeller up and we finally got moving again, we stopped after about an hour of walking, oh wait, i mean "patrolling". When we were at this rest stop, I began to show signs of heat exhaustion. I tried to get up when we were going to get going again, but I fell right back down because I was so freakin' dizzy. So, Doc R. had me take off my flak jacket, my cammie blouse and my t-shirt and he takes my vitals, and checks me out. He knows I'm going to be a heat casualty if we keep doing what were doi ng, so he says I'm going to get an IV as soon as we get back. Cool I thought. Ssgt H. decides that we should walk 2 more miles to get picked up by the vehicles. Shitty. The whole time I'm walking all over the place, having a hard time concentrating. So, we finally get to our pick up point, and there's only 2 vehicles (which techinically are only supposed to have 8 people in the back. Keep this in mind now...) for damn near 30 people. So, i hop into a truck the moment the trucks get there because I could barely stand anymore. About 12 other people hop into the vehicle I'm in, and we leave shortly thereafter. Don't forget that we're all wearing heavy and hot flack jackets and kevlars and cammies, and it's extremely hot out. I won't say how hot just yet, but just imagine it's really hot. So, as we're going along, my buddy Alvarez loses conciousness, and we're unable to bring him back to. The moment we get back to base, a litter is brough and they take him to BA S (batallion aid station) for treatment. I jumped down off the truck, gained my balance for a second, and immediately fell due to dizziness. After 15 seconds or so, I finally gained enough strength to stand up, and walk the 50 meters or so to our tent where I took off everything I had except my cammies, and threw it on the ground in front of our tent. From there, I stumbled to BAS so I could get treated. I went in, sat down, took off my blouse, and started to drink water. It took about 2 minutes until Doc R. noticed that I was there. As soon as he saw me, he called me back to the little treatment area so he could start treating me. So, I go back there, sit on this stretcher that is serving as a little doctor's table thing, and they immediately have me strip down to just my boxers. They put fans on me, cool washclothes, poured saline solution all over me, and stuck cold bottles of water down my crotch and in my armpits to cool me down. The first time they too k my temperature, it was about 103.9 degrees. Pretty fuckin' hot, huh? Believe me, it was taking its toll on me. I was dizzy, tired, and having an extremely difficult time moving any part of my body, as well as thinking straight, or even talking right. Well, anyways, they immediately gave me an IV. Followed by another one. To make a long story short, I was hating life. It took about an hour and a half just to get my temperature below 100 degrees. The whole time I'm delirious, mumbling about random shit. After my temperature got down to about 100 or so, I was so damn exhausted that I just fell asleep for about 2 hours. Upon waking up, I had to piss like there was no tomorrow, so I get up for the first time. Talk about an experience. I was walking like I was drunk. I had to have somebody walk with me to make sure I didn't fall down on the way there. Anyways, I handle my business, go back to the Bas, and lay back down for another 45 minutes or so. After waking u p, they give me some chips and some beef jerky to chew on because I was so weak I could hardly move at that point. After I ate the chips, I felt good enough to walk back to my tent, and I did. Before leaving they put me on light duty for 48 hours, which means I'm supposed to take it easy and just rest as much as I can. So much for that plan. At about 6 in the evening, Alvarez (who had a lower temperature then me, but was messed up a little more then I was) and I were told we had to go and join the rest of our platoon out on post. Bullshit. We both nearly died, and we were both COMPLETELY drained of all our energy, and now we have to go do 4 hours on post. Total bullshit, but whatever. The Marine Corps is getting theirs now, but I'm going to get mine when we get back.

I made a decent recovery, but still feel a little weird today. We got off post last night at 10:30 pm, and went back on at 6:30 this morning. It was hot as balls, but they (our oh-so-smart higher ups) decided that we could take our blouses off and wear our flak jackets over our t-shirts. No shit huh? Also, after 3 people nearly died from a middle of the day patrol, they finally decided (after much debate) that it would be best not to do anymore foot patrols in the middle of the day.

And last but not least, the weather forecast for June 23rd, 2005, at approximately 12pm, which was right about when we hit the middle of our patrol. Drum roll please

132 degrees Fahrenheit.

No fucking shit, huh?

Click this shit!

1 Bullshit Responses:

Anonymous Anonymous left the following bullshit...

You're a fucking faggot. Get a life.

1:26 PM  

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