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April 10, 2004

April 10, 2004

Alright, after my last entry, a lot happened. Crespin, Dooley, and I got orders to support a squad of grunts as they cleared some buildings suspected of having mortar spotters for the enemy. We took them out near to the city, dropped them off, and provided over watch. As we were getting into position for over watch, our throttle linkage came loose and we couldn’t move. We were ducks in the water. We were 30 meters from the city and 100 from the target Sgt. Perez had been shooting at. I get out to provide security as “Big A” fixes the track. Fifteen minutes later, we’re moving, thank God. That was a nervous situation. We felt all alone out there, but I so badly wanted to engage my M-16. I felt a definite thirst for blood.

Less than 30 minutes after we get back, the Lt. decides to send the same two tracks—SSgt. Jason, Davis, “Big A” and us—to go support a TCP a mile north. We had some better defilade than our last pause and no more fire, finally.

That night we witnessed Harrier Jets drop 500 pound bombs on the city. Way sick! When I was on turret/radio watch this morning, I found Crespin’s mini disc player, which happened to have my favorite Goo Goo Dolls and Def Leppard songs on it. So I rocked out for a while.

Oh! And guess what! Before we left yesterday, we scored three packs of smokes off some army fucks for $10 and found another of Dooley’s.

We left this pause at 1000 this morning, but not until SSgt. Jason had Dooley and me clear some houses on foot with a couple grunts. Not long after we got back to our COC (Command Operations Center), they punched us to 1st Section’s pause. We first dropped off some grunts in the city. We immediately began taking small arms fire as the grunts were pushing forward. We had to bring some media journalist with us and he began running around like he was invisible or something. What an idiot. I yelled at him to get back in the vehicle before he got shot.

On our way back to our new staging area, I caught some Concertina wire in my sprocket carrier. It was bad. I got pictures! It looked like we had one complete chromed out rim! It looked like a three hour job to get it out, but with my “expertise,” we did it in 20 minutes.

Anyway, we hung out afterward and bullshitted like usual. Ate dinner and helped Dooley dig a shit trench. Fifteen minutes—boom, boom, boom! Mortars right on top of us. We saw the impacts 30 meters from us, 10 feet from SSgt.’s vehicle. Sgt. “Gaybear” Hebert almost got hit by a mortar earlier; it was only like 20 feet away.

I’m sure we’ll have more to share tomorrow. Damn, these mortars are getting closer!

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