March 27, 2004
The good thing is that we’re finally to Camp Volturno, except it’s called Camp Fallujah now. 2/1 Grunts have been fighting everyday. We got here last night, and we heard helicopters all night medevacing Marines. Last night, there was one KIA (Killed in Action) and six wounded. Two nights before that, they had two KIAs.
All of us are just sitting around bored out of our minds, waiting for the Colonel to send us out. I guess being shot at is better than boredom. We have no showers, only bottled water, and no phones or internet, which is fine. I don’t care about that. We have a trench dug into the ground to shit in and no chow hall. Although, chow is brought to us. We’re backed into the trees partly for some defilade. That’s only for if motherfuckers try jumping the wall again.
Fallujah is compared to the movie Escape from New York, filled with thugs and killers. It’s so bad that Saddam himself wouldn’t go near it. They hate him and Americans. I guess they hate the Army a lot, but they are warming up to the Marines—or we just know we handle ourselves better. Semper Fi.
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