Memoirs written in prose of Sergeant Robertson, Damon M. USMC while in Iraq | ...with frequent appearances of King Hammurabi.
If you are new to this journal, make sure to start reading in chronological order by scrolling down to the bottom of the oldest post in October 2004. Damon's letters from August 20th, 2004 - October 23rd, 2004 were all added to this blog on Oct. 23rd, 2004. All subsequent letters are posted in real time.
Saturday, October 23, 2004
Dear Family and Friends: This makes two days in a row that I have gotten time on the computer. Let's hope it doesn't trip the circuit breaker again. Lemme tell ya. The only thing better than writing mass emails is having to write them twice. And if you believe that, I have another story to tell you (which is actually true, so pay attention). For those of you who pray, and even for those of you who don't but think that spending your time "thinking good thoughts" in my general direction helps :) please read the following: As with every Marine unit I've ever served with, there's at least a small gaggle of complete JERKS who manage to get all sorts of rank and authority while at the same time failing to obtain any leadership skills whatsoever. We will call our current subject "Toothless" for reasons I hope are obvious (to both protect his identity and to express one of the most amazingly funny things about him you could ever hope to see :) This is the sort of man who lords his authority over others-- particularly the sergeants, who are one step below him in rank but outnumber him 10:1. He has very specific expectations, as most men do, but fails to communicate them in any effective manner, expecting the sergeants to read his mind (some women do this, I've heard). So he's really irritating. The kind of guy we should all go and pray for (because I can tell you, I've seen guys break up with girls because they communicate this way, and I've seen countless others stay with such women and... eh, misery, anyone?) DOGGONE IT my library computer time is up. Only one crash and some sweat and this is all I have to share with you. Oh, yeah, and I'm going to go pray for my leaders, the good ones and the bad ones, because these puffed up ... (whatevers) ... are the kind who get to give me orders while bullets (fired in anger) are coming in my general direction. :] We do have good leaders. It's just a shame they don't stand out as much as the, eh, not so good ones (be proud of me: I'm not swearing like a Marine!). I got an extra few minutes here. Grace comes in small packets, like "get off the computer... oh, wait, no one's in line... nevermind..." :) Tomorrow we are executing convoy operations. This means we will beat the sun by, oh, three hours or so in getting up. We will hopefully learn useful things about maneuvering HumVees through unfriendly terrain, how to jump out of the back of a truck that's 8' off the ground without losing teeth, ACL's, ankles, larger bones and the like (the sorts of things we tend to think ourselves "happy" for never having lost/broken). I'll get to see first hand which of my sergeants can cook and which ones are still wondering which setting the metaphorical micorwave should be set on... But let's be honest. I need to take time to accurately measure my own leadership skills, and the responsibilities I have are nowhere near as large as those men who are in charge of me. Vainglory is a danger, and pride, yeah, no kidding. I'm going to take some time tonight to evaluate my heart. One of the sergeants from another platoon decided to "jump in my rear" today... for whatever reason; the extra stripe on his arm sort of gives him the right to do that without explaining himself. The thing is, he's one of those "sarcasm is better than straight talk" people so I didn't even realize he was trying to say anything other than, you know, what he was saying. Later, having been made aware of his disgruntlement, I tried to approach him to rectify any misunderstanding, but he wouldn't even talk to me: he straight up blew me off. One of those times you bend over backwards to patch up a situation and someone holds onto the grudge that never needed to be there in the first place. It's alright. Something tells me the sands of Iraq will be the great sifter. We'll see what's left when the sifting is done. I apologize if this is too much information, or too long for any of you. Let me know. I just went off a bit. Hopefully some of this is entertaining (!!). And NO, none of you want to see how horrible my small pox vaccination site looks. God bless you all, :D
# posted by chevas @ 7:28 PM 