Yin The Cat v1. Android v2. Autumn Tree v1. Timewall Clock Wallpaper v1. Madagascar 3 Live Wallpaper HD 1. FxCamera 2. Android System Info 1. Perfect Uninstaller 1. Lucky Patcher 1. You can use arrow key to move the enlarged image left-to-right and top-to-bottom. See All. Experience Flash Never be shutout from visiting the countless sites that use Flash The absolute reliability with the most common Internet protocols provides a new web surfing experience that supersedes conventional access.
Readers Hub is an integrated book, magazine, and newspaper solution that gives you e-Reading content to enjoy when you want to read the newest bestseller, a must read Op-Ed piece, or do some self-improvement. Build your own personal library and have instantaneous access to your favorite books with the touch of a fingertip. Check to Compare. All information herein features, specifications, price, etc. Scan Master v1. Doesn't matter what your taste in film might be, we are convinced you will find what you are looking for at Firstload; over 2 million satisfied customers worldwide and thousands of public domain movies speak for themselves.
And I had the radio 8 hours a day, 7 days a week. And I still had my biometrics duties, and patrol excursions. It sucked. Badass openly remarked I was the hardest working one in the platoon despite getting nonstop shit. I remember at one point I had only gotten 3 hours of sleep in 72 hours.
Also, when a man has to stand in a box, staring into the darkness for 12 hours by himself, and wear 7 layers of clothing just to keep warm, something inside him scars up and hardens. You eventually learn to pass the time by fantasies of banging your at-home or now-in-college friends, or fantasizing about going to a supermarket and just buying every kind of food you could ever want.
I remember wanting Fruity Pebbles. And god. It was cold. The desert is really, really fucking cold. And add in the desert wind, and it was just hell. You paced about in your little 3 x 3 box, or shifted about, or even jerked off to keep warm. Many a young-grunt brought up with him a sock if it was a solo post , and many others didn't. You do what you have to to stay awake, less you want your ass whupped. Relationships began to deteriorate still. One young lad turned out to be quite the snorer. So his squad kicked him out of the little makeshift squad bay, and the poor bastard slept out in the freezing open outside the little house we took over.
But some relationships also kind of rebounded, as some grew comfortable. A lot of us were becoming complacent. It had been 3 months. We had done plenty of patrols, found a few IEDs, and done a few sweeps. Ramadi wasn't on fire, as we were promised. And then, January 19th, Part 3 FUN : I joined a line battalion. I wanted to fight. Always have. I wanted to know what it felt like to kill someone.
I wanted to believe that it was for the right reasons, and that I was helping move forward a great cause. And many young men like me have stood on those yellow footprints before, for this explicit purpose. Before you label me as some kind of psychopathic monster, I'd like you to know that many of us define ourselves with that desire.
It isn't natural, but it is real, and when you spend your childhood idolizing warriors, and then finally have a chance to fight and nothing happens More on this later. All was quiet on the northern front until January. This was a counterinsurgency mission, so we worked hand in hand with the Iraqi Police a lot, and one of the duties was teaching them to stand post and do watch.
The son had decided to join up with the police, and I guess was standing watch. One of our younger guys boots, or 'junior Marines' , was in charge of the Iraqis. The story goes that IP Chief's son was giving him lip or something, and when our guy turned around to walk away after giving an order, the son decided to pull a knife.
Rumor has it our Marine pulled out his, gutted the kid, then pushed him off the roof of the building they had the post at. This obviously did not do well for the relationship between the IPs and us, as we were supposed to be allies to fight the influx of foreign fighters. So my platoon 1st , and theirs swapped. I had the familiar duty of standing post, but COC work was no longer mine. Somewhere during those 6 days were raids and sweeps, which were long, sordid affairs of going through miles of town and entering peoples' homes, saying hello, and going through their shit.
And then we got hit. Four months into a sleepy deployment, after all the hype and working and 1. It was a long fight, and some people say the IPs they were on patrol with led them to that trap. I don't want to go into the details, mainly because I don't know. But I do know two things. One guy died. Lance Corporal [censored]. That platoon had a reputation for being dickwads and real mean towards their boots.
I was with them for one day during training, and [censored] was a tall southern white guy who was super, super nice, and soft spoken. From what I heard, he never yelled. One guy lost both legs, and several feet of intestine. Lieutenant [censored]. This one struck a nerve. A fucking map. Why the fuck would I steal a map.
And [censored] told the gunny that if I got punished for something I didn't do, he'd come after Gunny via the CO. More than 6 feet tall of muscle, short blonde hair, and a chiseled jaw - exactly the kind of guy you'd think would be a badass Marine.
More importantly, he wasn't an asshole. From what I've heard, he downplayed his position a lot, and his relationship with the platoon sergeant was admirable and cordial. Too many boot-tenants come in with their big swinging dicks and butter bars the ranking insignia is a golden bar , and while [censored] was a boot, he knew he was, and he was a good man who did what was best for the platoon at the price of his ego.
I remember the moment I heard. I was standing post, when my former asshole squad leader, who picked on me because of my ASVAB, walked in and started asking me some questions. Areas of coverage, can the M machine gun hit this and that, and informed me that they'd be putting up a fence around the post.
I was like, 'Fence? Did something happen? One KIA, several wounded. We weren't told who, but the rumor mill called the Lance Corporal Underground was hard at work, and we caught the details soon enough.
We had a makeshift funeral at our old FOB. CLIC was disbanded. I was placed back into first platoon, but a different squad. I don't want to focus purely on the negatives, so I will expound on this point in the deployment. These were the happiest days of my life. Two homies I called them other things , one from Philly, and one from NYC I think , adopted me and treated me like a teammate, and soon everyone else did.
And I loved them for it. I had been searching for a home my whole life, and I was finally there. I was still a POG personnel other than grunt to them, but I slowly gained their respect with my smarts, and my comfortable attitude in Iraq. It was clear we were all united by a common purpose: two bodybuilders, two homeboys, one former squid navy guy - piece of shit who later turned out to be a pedophile and sent to military prison , one sweet reservist Wisconsin boy who looked like an underwear model Calvin Klein , and one older guy who liked Oasis.
And of course, my team leader, the West Virginia welder. This man taught me so many life lessons I can't even begin to list them all. Our squad leader was from my hometown too, and he was the nicest guy ever. Fucking massive, and asked me to send him 'porn' which were actually pirated comic books. I think I gave him the entire Civil War collection. Calvin Klein and I connected particularly well. If there was ever a man who deserved happiness in this world, it'd probably be him.
Second tour we came back, and I saw him, and we hugged it out. I asked him how his wife and daughter were doing, and he said they divorced. When I asked why, he said words I'll never forget. It's coming back. And we were ready to fucking murder some insurgents. Blood for blood. And so I joined in with the fun. We were hunting, hard. We wanted to fight so bad. We were coming back from a particularly long sweep on the northern bank of the Euphrates, when one truck with some Johnny Mohammed decided to take a chance and cut us off.
I just happened to be the road guard blocking traffic. Before I could stop myself, or anything even registered, my M16 was raised, the safety was off, my finger was on the trigger, and the red triangle of my ACOG sight was on his face. I'd like to point out I'm a 5-time rifle expert the highest rating for Marine Corps rifle qualifications , and later a combat marksmanship coach for both pistol and rifle. I was also selected to go to an ACOG course where I was hitting head-sized targets from yards with a 5.
To put it succinctly, I wasn't going to miss Johnny Mohammed from 25 yards away. I remember thinking to myself, "I'm about to kill this man in front of his family. I don't recall seeing anyone else in the front of his white bongo truck, and I'm not sure where the family idea came from. But the most important thing I noted was that I didn't even hesitate.
I wasn't shaking. There was nothing. Just calm, cool, casual thought of 'hey, I'm going to kill this guy if he inches even one foot forward'. Thank god he didn't. But I was the local hero when we got back to the FOB. This kind of tension and bloodlust just continued to grow within us. The second event kind of dampened mine though. I was standing post after a rainy day, and a mud-covered truck charged at the FOB using the side road reserved for our vehicles.
I tried to flare, and the flare was a dud, so I fired two quick warning shots and jumped on the M It was my second and last chance of killing men, and once again, they stopped. I was shaking like a leaf, because I was convinced that day was the day I died.
No wise man rides past 3 tank tracks laid across a M road at full speed towards an American FOB unless he's looking to make himself and a portion of the FOB a crater. Turns out it was just a lost IP truck. I'm skeptical it was an accident. It was well known the IPs were the biggest pieces of shits around. When we'd go out for routine patrols or sweeps, they'd drive ahead of us with their trucks with full sirens on as if to announce to everyone, 'Hide yo wife! Hide yo kids!
Hide yo MM shells and AK's! It didn't help that we knew elements of the IPs were enemies, and when I was briefly in intel, there were lots of reports of political infighting and power vacuum jockeying in Ramadi. Also, prisoners had a tendency to mysteriously disappear under their watch, only to be caught again months later. I remember later my squad leader asked if I was okay - he was the second one in the box with me, calling in information to the COC, who in turn was calling it up to higher.
There was an investigation into the incident for shooting at our allies. I didn't care. I, was, once again, heralded by my squad, but, something in me was really shaken. I had never had an adrenaline rush like that. I've jumped out of planes, competed in BJJ, gotten interviewed by Palantir But life goes on. And so the deployment continued. I was later sent to HQ platoon I was unhappy about this, but was moved to third platoon later as a team leader and second squad leader.
That was my deployment. I was given a certificate of commendation I didn't suck enough dick to get a Navy Achievement Medal , sent back to HQ temporarily, and a week later we were on a plane back to the US. So, to reiterate, we: 1 Volunteered DURING WAR to join a LINE UNIT and fight 2 Sweat, bled, and cried through boot camp, SOI, and a workup consisting of torture by the administration and torture by our junior leaders because being a new Marine is a reason to be hazed during the workup 3 Froze, roasted, suffered through wind, rain, Iraqi mudholes, humvees breaking apart in the middle of the fucking desert busting low-level oil smugglers 4 Realized this was the real deal when people we KNEW died and got injured and crippled 5 Ran around the entire northern shore of the Euphrates, desperate to fight, knowing the entire time the IP policeman we were working with is probably plotting our death at night and was probably the dude who buried the IED that blew up half the road at 4AM because he wired it wrong and killed a donkey 6 Went home with a serious case of murder blue balls That was my tour of duty.
I'd mention my second one, by at that point I was like, 'fuck this I'm going home'. Also, it was a security mission at a well-known air base 50 miles away from the nearest Iraqi town.
Now that the narrative is largely over, there were three important takeaways for me during my first tour of duty in Iraq. I saw grown hardasses cry on the phone in public when their wife divorced them from miles away. I saw the nicest and jovial guys turn into backstabbing dickwads who would pull a knife on you when you were just playing around and giving them shit.
And you were his teammate. I saw a petty shoplifting Georgia boy who was nice all around rise to the rank of team leader as a private, and radiated with leadership and humility. Put people in their worst element, and they'll either rise, or break. And this is part of the myth of war for me - i. It's not a band of brothers, it's a brotherhood of man - across all cultures and belief systems, war is central, and war is both noble, and evil, and this is why.
The extremes of who we are come out to play, and it can be a marvelous sight to behold, or it can be the worst thing that has ever happened. And yet the people are numb to it. We went out on countless patrols, just walking from house to house, store to store, and even illegally bought I don't want to talk about this.
But you get what I mean ;-. And the locals were more than happy to oblige. At the end of the day, these poor bastards in the middle of our COIN operation are just Johnny, Jane, and Alice and Bobby Mohammed, and they're just trying to live man.
We came in and fucked shit up, but it was because we wanted to kill bad guys. At least we tried to repair it, with money, generators, and 'speedballs' - big bags of rice, flour, canned goods, etc. Being a civil servant was basically our job, except we were armed with guns and actively hunted the bad guys. I don't think I can say this and ever run for president, but I'll go ahead and say it.
I joined for the explicit purpose to kill. That was it. Chapter 33 GI Bill didn't exist when I joined in Education benefits were a joke.
I thought I was going to be a lifer before I even got through boot camp. I even went back and forth in re-enlisting. Survivor guilt. I volunteered to fight and didn't even get shot at, as far as I know. The two moments where I could have waxed people would have been innocent lives I took for no good reason and counter to our mission.
Don't get me wrong, I'm well aware the older and wiser grunts who know the truth of the situation think I'm a fucking idiot, and really, most of me agrees, but like every young man, there must be a trial by fire, and I never received mine.
This guilt was exacerbated during the second workup, when we were told we were going to Afghanistan, and then got sent to a security mission at an air base And then mine was hurt again, when some of the guys I knew who served with me stayed for a third tour - the Marjah Offensive in Afghanistan.
I knew a few of the guys who passed away there. And to know that some of the guys who I was a team or squad leader to fought there without me I'm older now. I can out-rationalize and out-logic it and I'm much more emotionally mature and capable. But as Swafford said A man fires a rifle for many years. And afterwards he comes home, and he sees that whatever else he may do with his life - build a house, love a woman, change his son's diaper - he will always remain a jarhead. And all the jarheads killing and dying, they will always be me.
We are still in the desert. So, what was it like to participate in the Iraq War? It's like going out for a picnic with the only people that matter in your life, and after an early morning of hard preparation of sandwiches and lugging the bigass picnic box up the mountain to its apex, you get to witness the world around you in all its rawness and beauty and desperation, knowing death was only two feet too far in any direction. And then it starts raining. You knew that was a possibility the moment you set forth, and it's crappy, but a part of you is masochistic, you kind of yearned for the rain.
Anyways, can't control the weather. So you whip out your sandwich, and with a smile on your face and your entire body drenched, you bite into your sandwich, only to realize you forgot to put in the ham.
So it's just a cheese sandwich. It was one of a kind ham too - the kind that young idealistic men hunger for. You can't get mad. You just let it roll off your back like the water beads are. And after you hike back down, you realize some in your party had it much worse than you did - some fell, tripped, or broke something, and REALLY wanted the ham, even more than you did.
Others completely broke down under the rain. Still, you manage to continue with the smile, but you're not sure if you have made the choice to smile, or a smile has been etched on your face. It's mirthless, sardonic, bitter even. You just learn to live with it. You volunteered for something great that demanded your entirety, and you didn't pay much of your soul for it. Others did. Deep down, you wish you paid it, and that you were as miserable as your friends, but you don't have it in you.
You don't mind a cheese sandwich or a few cuts and gashes. But that ham A sandwich, without ham. What was the point of the picnic then? The preparation, the hike, the precarious apex, the rain, and the meal? Did it mean anything? Others hated it, but you got something out of it - you know what you're like, at the extremes of humanity.
You're better for it. And as time goes on, and memories fade, something inside you never forgets, or never LETS you forget, what it was like to be at the top of that mountain. Argus Nov 26, Argus Jan 10, Argus Dec 8, If music genres were personalities, how would you describe them? What's the longest palindrome sentence? What innovation, if any, could help physical retail stores stay relevant and maintain market share?
Lahzeha ra tey kardim ta bekhoshbakhti beresim amma afsos fahmidim khoshbakhti haman lahze bode…….! Mobarak bad lahzeyi ke dar delhoreye saniyeyi takapoye Sali gozasht fasli az daghdaghehaye diruz va miaad fasli ziba…! Ghesmati az vasiyat nameye ali dayi bad az mardonam mara dar varzeshgah azadi be khak besparid ta hamishe dar zamin basham.
Pesari bodam ke esm nadasht ba dokhtari ashna shodam ke vojod nadasht be shahri raftim kea dam nadasht be resturani raftim ke ghaza nadasht ba ghashogh changali ghaza khordim ke daste nadasht ,oon ghaza aslant maze nadasht vali sare kar gozashtan shoma kheyli maze dasht…!
Kashki manituret bodam hamishe rokh be rokhet bodam …. Age khabi bidar sho age bidari beshin age neshasti pasho rah boro age rah miri bedo age midavi ye poshtak bezan va khoshhal bash va khoshhal bash kea z taraf man ye off omade vasat….! Ersal off tekrari haram mibashad va kafareye an amozesh mantegh be 60 tork, amozesh gheyrat be 60 rashti va 60 bar sherkat dar namaz jomeye ghazvin mibashad.
Kholase ta omr dari ashkhayat akhar male haman yek chiz ast barayam gofteand aghaghiha ra kheyli dost dashti …man ham dost daram…. Khodam ra be in razi kardeam ke shayad gomshodeei mesle atre aghaghihaye hayate bachegiyam ke yek roz yek jayi miyan baziha va hayajanhaye kodaki toye damagham mipichid va badha har che donbaleshan gashtam peydayeshan nakardeam …..
Inke nadidamet delam harroz barayat tang mishavad badiyash in ast ke midanam to hasti. Polise beynolmelal elam kard:neshan makhsos hakeme boozrg miti koman tavasot ghazviniyan be serghat rafte ast moragheb bashed ehteram nagozarid. Ghazviniye ba bachash mire ghabrestun bachehe mibine babash ye chizi az zamin bardasht mach kard gozasht ye gosheyi az babash miporse babam jan nan bod babash mige nab ache jan ostokhan kan bod.!!!
Ye roz ye torke az ye jobe bozorg mipare shlvar o shortesh pare mishe ye kam fekr mikone mige khoda ro shokr ke short pam bod va garna…. Donesti ashk az labkhand ba :nashkan delamo yademon bashe age kasi dostemon dasht behesh nagim boro nemikham bebinamet chon zendegisho azash migirim, toye ghorbat cheshat chizi ke nemikham:nashkan delamo arzesh dare?
Ye nafar…. Hargez baraye ashegh shodan be donbale baran o bahar o babone nabash gahi dar entezar kharhaye yek kaktus be ghonheyi miresi ke mah ra be labanat mineshanad. Doaye yek zane movafagh:khodaya az to kheradmandi mikhaham ta hamsaram ra dark konam,eshgh mikhaham ta oo ra bebakhsham ,bordbari mikhaham ta sharayetash ra bepaziram,zira agar az to ghodrat bekhaham oo ra anghadr mizanam ta bemired..!
Donya ra bad sakhteand…. Eshgh shayad tanha jayezeye in rozgar namehraban ast ke baraye bordanash niyazi be parti nist!! Bash faghat tanha shartash in ast ke arzeshe an ra beshenasi va hormatash ra negah dari…! Faghat darya delash abi tar az man bod …. Chera gashtam chenin tanha tar az tanha!!! Be har atash shodam abi…. Shoma momkene betavanid goli ra zire pa lagad mal konid, amma mahal ast betavanid atre anra dar faza mahv sazid. Mordab baraye be dast avardane nilofar salha mikhabe ta arameshe nilofar be ham nakhore,pass agar kasi ro dost dari,baraye dashtanesh salha sabr kon….!
Rozha migozarad eshghha mimirand rangha range degar migirand va faghat khaterehast ke che talkh o shirin dast nakhorde be ja mimanad zendi shoghe tamanaye hamin khaterehast. Hadaf an chizi nist ke to bekhahi be an betesi ….
Zendegi rode ravanist abe in rod be sarcheshme nemigardad baz yademan bashad ke gheflat nakonim az aghaz eshtebahi ke hame omr pashimanam az an etemadi ke be mardom donya kardam. Emroz roze meli golhast rozat mobaraaaaak….. Marajee taghlid pishnahad kardand:az in be baad karbarane interneti mavarede zir ra ghabl az vorod be internet reaayat konand. Dovom:ba paye rast varede websaithaye mostahjan shavand.
Sevom:rezayat pedar dokhtar dar hengame chat kardan ba namahram shart ast. Chaharom : dar hengam ersale offline hamishe faramosh nakoni ke khodavand hamishe online ast……! Eshgh yani mehre bi chon o chera, eshgh yani kosheshe bi edeaa…. Kheyli jalebe az sosk mitarsim ….. Age kasi dostet dasht lazem nist behet bege dostet daram on ba goftan jomleye movazebe khodet bash sabet mikone ke dostet dare……movazebe khodet bash. Toye japon az hard ah ta bacheyi ke be donya miyad nohtashon khengand,yekishon bahosh!
Amma midonid chera japoniha in ghadr pishraft mikonanad va iraniha pishraft nemikonand? Chon toye japon on ye nafar bahosh ro mizaran balaye sare on noh ta kheng amma toye iran on yek done kheng ro mizaran balaye sare noh ta bahosh dige.
Diroz sheytan ra didam dar havali meydan basatesh ro pahn karde bood ,farib miforokht,mardom doresh jam shode bodand ,hayahoo mikardand va hol mizadand va bishtar mikhastand,toye basatesh hame chi bod:ghoror,hers,dorogh,khiyanat , jahtalabi,…hark as chizi mikharid va dar ezayash chizi midad baziha tekeyi az ghalbeshan ra midadand va bazi pareyi az roheshan ra baziha imaneshan ra midadand va bazi azadegishan ra…..
Zemeston dobare miyad bahar dobare tekrar mishe amma to hich vaght tekrar nemishi chon khoda yek eshtebah ro 2 bar tekrar nemikone. Sharab ra dost daram chon range khon ast khon ra dost daram chon dar rag jaryan darad rag ra dost daram chon be ghalb rah darad ghalb ra dost daram chon jaygah toost…! Hamishe vaghti gerye mikoni oni ke aromet mikone dostet dare amma oni ke ba to gerye mikone asheghete.
Bose bar axat zanam tarsam ke ghabash beshkanad ghab ax tost amma shisheye more man ast bose bar moyat zanam tarsam ke tarash beshkanad tare moye tost amma risheye more man ast.
Mohabat rah be del dadan safaye sine mikhahad be yade yekdigar bodan dele bikine mikhahad agar doram ze didarat dalile bivafayi nist vafa an ast ke namat ra hamishe bar zaban daram.
0コメント