Not sure if this should go here. Move if it if you think it doesn't mods. But I thought these might be good talking points.

One of the best things about going out to the field for training is the extensive amount of down time that ultimately ends up having a war story or two thrown in. They come in all shapes and sizes. Here are a few that run the gammit from touching, to down right shitty about the organization I belong to.

Bosnia Bike Rack:

I have a Staff Sargeant as a section leader this time around who's been around the block. He served in Mogadishu back in the day...twice. And after his stint in Mogadishu, his Marine Expeditionary Unit was sent in as augment unit for NATO in Bosnia. The UN had a no fire policy in effect, so even the US Marines at the time could do nothing if it didn't endanger their own lives. Consequently, nobody messed around with the Marines. They did target UN forces though. One day, my Staff Sergeant was in an observation post, and he watched a group of serbs handcuff three UN peacekeepers to a bike rack. The Serbs then left, and even though the Marines knew where the snipers were, they could do nothing but watch the snipers take endless pop shots at the poor bastards cuffed to the bike rack.

Purple Hearts:

Most of the guys that train us are completely jaded Marines who are getting out of the Corps, and don't have enough time left on their contracts to be sent anywhere new. So the Corp sticks them in support battallions to train Marines that are going overseas. As one of these corporals said, "Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love Marines, I'd do anything for the Marines I fought beside in Iraq, but absolutely hate the Marine Corps." We got into a big discussion about medals, and he told two stories about purple hearts.

One of his friends was a machinegunner in Al Anbar Province in Iraq. He had the luck of catching THREE IED's while he was over there. On one occassion he was even blown out of the turret. All but the last time he came back from moderate injuries sustained on the battlefield. The third time his facial injuries were so serious that he required MEDEVAC to Germany and eventually to Bathesda. He was awarded three purple hearts, but can only wear one.

A 1st Sgt, on the same base that these Marines were out of recieved the same medal, and wears the same ribbon. Except he earned his from running out of the bathroom, away from his Marines, who were going to the wall to fight during a mortar attack. While the 1st Sgt was running, he tripped under his own two legs and broke his leg. He suffered no direct injuries from any of the mortars, but since he hurt HIMSELF during an enemy attack, he wrote HIMSELF up for a purple heart, and was awarded it.

Another Marine in his company shot the turret, the rounds bounced off the turret and hit him in the arm. That Marine wears a purple heart for that too.

That's enough to piss people off.

The Butter Bar:

The same Cpl told this beauty that you'll all love. When we go out on patrols we obviously take communications gear. All of which is accounted for and signed for before we head out on any sort of mission. The Corporal went out on a mission one day, where they not only got hit by an IED, but also ended up in a firefight. The IED was so powerful that it literally turned the Marines inside the humvees into chunks. Following the initial attack, they set up a security perimeter and literally spent hours picking up the pieces of their fallen friends. He said they literally were putting them into garbage bags. When attacks like this happen, it is vital that we recover all of that communications gear for security purposes. This corporal was in charge of the comm gear and was in charge of the patrol that day. When he returned from this horrific day, he found the Leiutenant in charge of the comm shop and went to return the destroyed communications gear from the blown up humvee. The Lieutenant refused to accept it because it was all damaged and destroyed. The Corporal explained what happened and the Lieutenant responded with, "So what? They're just people, people die in war all the time."

The Lieutenant was ultimately awarded a Navy Achievement Medal with a combat V (something that is very rare). He never left base.

Beans:

This story is great. Bear with it.

One of my new friends in my section has served in Iraq. He was serving in a forward operating base north of Ramadi in a place called Hit (Heat). The people of Hit were quite friendly, but since it was near Ramadi, they had to be extremely cautious.

One day a boy came walking up towards their position on a patrol with a sizable box in his hands smiling like all get out. They told the boy to stop in Arabic, English, with hand signs, but he kept coming. Nobody wants to kill a kid, so one of the gunners throws out a flash bang. Knocks the kid right out. You never know what's gonna be in the box, so PFC's up. The PFC walks up ever so cautiously and opens the box. Inside the box was a puppy. They take the puppy and the boy back to base, the docs fix up the boy, they give him a whole bunch of candy and shit, and the boy insists they keep the dog as a present from him and his family. So they do. They name the dog Beans and for months he was a apart of their group.

Every now and then, his group would work with sniper platoons. They'd drive them out, drop them off, then pick them up a few days later. One day they picked up a group and they went to Al Asad for a resupply and to get some good food. Their last stop was to pick up food for Beans. That was when the base Sgt. Major saw Beans, and told them they couldn't have Beans. So they gave Beans to a pair of snipers that were with them that day. One was a Staff Sargeant and the other a Lance Corporal. The Staff Sergeant was single and wrote home every day to his mother in Ohio, telling stories about Beans endlessly. The dog meant the world to him.

One day my friend went out to drop the snipers off in the ancient city of Hit. Off went the sniper team with Beans. No more than ten minutes later they were all ambushed in a mortar attack. Right away they went to recover the bodies and sure enough, all of them had been killed. Except for Beans. The same group took Beans back into their possession for the next couple of weeks.

The Staff Sergeant was flown back to Ohio, and the Commandant himself was at his funeral. The mother told him the story about her son and Beans and what Beans had meant to him. The Commandant was so struck by the story that the next day, the Military Police had orders in Iraq for "Beans" to go back to the US. And that is where Beans is to this day, in Ohio, with the Staff Sergeants mom.

I dunno why, but that story sits real heavy, but warms at the same time.

I cant believe im the first to comment on this thread, great and touching little tales, after the army, you can go work on a tv series, im serious dude.

You write very well. As Bass said "great and touching tales", “Beans” in particular was really moving. Thank you for sharing those with us.

Here's one I forgot yesterday...

I've enjoyed talking endlessly with my new found Palestinian friend. He's taken a lot of flak for joining the Marine Corps and much of that flak has come within his own house from his father, mother, and his three sisters. Now, his older sister is more moderate, but his two younger sisters aged 16 and 12 are very conservative. The pray five times a day, read the Quran endlessly, and cover themselves up. Now, the Quran teaches that if one Muslim kills another Muslim that you will go to hell. Just before he left, he was alone in the house one day with his youngest sister. They sat silently for a while before she said, "Gad, if something happens over there and you get in a fight. Could you, like, shoot over their heads or something?" She paused for a moment. "Because I don't want you to go to hell."

When I was working as a title closer, I did a closing on a refinance one Friday afternoon with a Palestinian man. It was just the two of us in the room, so while we're signing papers, we're talking about a bunch of stuff. He's telling me about his kids and his wife, all that jazz.

At one point, I said to him, "You know, if you're married, your wife is supposed to sign some of these papers as well, even if the loan is solely in your name." He then started to explain to me about how they were married back in Palestine, and that the marriage isn't recognized by the government here, and that he had talked to his loan officer, and all this. It was bullshit, we both knew it, but I just nodded and went along with him and we finished up the closing.

As I was driving home, I was thinking, here's this guy, really nice guy, loves his family, brought them to Milwaukee for a better life, and he is pulling some slightly shady deal on this mortgage, probably to get a lower rate or whatever.

Palestinians and Jews have an awful lot in common after all.

Those are some compelling stories, LW. Thanks for sharing.