March 23, 2004
Well, as you can see I’m still here—so is everyone else. That’s because we didn’t get hit…at all. It seems like I’m asking for it. Why?
On the night we arrived, however, we received mortar fire in the base from outside. No one was hurt, but nerves were tweaked. Everyone was tired and pissed off because we had to fit four men in two-man rooms. I almost knocked Amster in the face. He made a comment to me that wasn’t needed, but he was a little rattled up from the blasts so I let it go.
Today, 12 of us took a three vehicle convoy just up the road to a different firm base. I manned the 240 Gulf, but again, we had no resistance. 1st Platoon is moving to the Firm Base Volturno on the north wall. This happens to be the place closest to the city of Fallujah. Almost every night this spot gets mortared. In fact, last night, it got mortared. Six men jumped the wall with weapons, but Reconnaissance gunned them down.
The platoon will be pretty secluded from everyone else, which I prefer. But there’s no PX (Post Exchange), and the chow hall and internet café is a hike, a long walk.
I wrote Ashleigh, Justin Rolbiecki’s cousin, last night. I don’t know her, but she lives in Colorado, Grand Junction to be exact. We’ll see where that goes. I’m thinking about writing Angie, and no, I haven’t heard from Moira or Jenni yet.
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