It may have been during the last week of December or perhaps early January when the platoon was awakened and we were told that a company from the 2/39Th had their ass handed to them. Someone said that fifty-six out of eighty troopers had been killed, the veracity of this number is unknown to me but I did meet a member of this company and he is still "tweaking" so it must have been awful.
When the platoon sergeant told me I was going on an Eagle Flight, I had no idea what an Eagle Flight was and was curious as only the ignorant can be before being sent into a shit storm.
We got on the choppers and dropped scant meters away from where the "battle" had taken place. The survivor of the ambush told me that his company stumbled into a bunker complex and the killing began. Fortunately for Bravo Company, the enemy had di dieed and had left the detritus of battle. There were dozens of M-16's lying on the ground scattered willy nilly and bloody dressings. The wall of one trench was soaked with fresh blood.
Off in the distance I saw two ponchos slung across two trees. One poncho held what looked like raw beef and the other poncho was slung over it, a few feet over the poncho containing the beef. I thought it strange that they would put beef in the open where flys could light upon it. Being curious, I walked over to the ponchos to sate my curiosity.
When I got to the ponchos I noticed it was not raw beef but rather the remains of a trooper who had been on the receiving end of an RPG. The right side of his head was completely gone, his right side had been mangled and troops had thrown body parts into the poncho. It was just too strange because we were about the same size and our facial features were alike. It was as if my future death was being prefigured in that slice of time. Someone had thrown his severed hand next to the body. It looked lonely.
Olberman gets History and definitions CORRECT...Rummy doesn't!
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VA WATCH DOG dot ORG (Watching The VA, Because Somebody Has To!)
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October 11, 2002 "What lies at the end of this road is complete moral as well as political
corruption. The war is a fateful turn. The day we set foot on Iraqi soil
will mark the end of our old republican form of government, and the
beginning of a long, slow descent into the bone-yard of empires.
"In 1952, Garet Garrett, a writer of great talent, published a
little-noticed pamphlet that prophesized this moment as if he had seen
it in a dream:
"'We have crossed the boundary that lies between Republic and
Empire. If you ask when, the answer is that you cannot make a
single stroke between day and night; the precise moment does not
matter. There was no painted sign to say: "You are now entering
Imperium." Yet it was a very old road and the voice of history was
saying: "Whether you know it or not, the act of crossing may be
irreversible." And now, not far ahead, is a sign that reads: "No
U-turns."'" – Justin Raimondo
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