Christmas in Ramadi

 I had not written in my journal for over a month, and still it will be several weeks before I make another entry.  I did not want to think about what was happening anymore.  I detached from it and for good reason. We made it out of Fallujah. A lot of people did not. It was hard to not see the people that we started with still around. During battle everything moves so fast and when somebody is killed or injured you have no time to stop, you just get them out of the way and hope you see them again someday, and then keep fighting.

 I had not written in my journal for over a month, and still it will be several weeks before I make another entry.  I did not want to think about what was happening anymore.  I detached from it and for good reason.  We made it out of Fallujah. A lot of people did not. It was hard to not see the people that we started with still around.  During battle everything moves so fast and when somebody is killed or injured you have no time to stop, you just get them out of the way and hope you see them again someday, and then keep fighting. 
We were sent to Camp Ramadi where we were able to make repairs to our vehicles, re-supply and most of all get some rest and hot food.  We had small temp buildings to live in that slept 10 of us.  We made it our home by decorating the walls with Christmas cards and pictures of naked girls. We hung Christmas lights and even put up a tree. We had not been receiving our mail while conducting Operation Phantom Fury, so when the mail finally caught up with us, just before Christmas, it was overwhelming.  There are few things in life that can make a Marine as happy as when he gets a letter at mail call. Thanks everybody.

Christmas Caroling

 It was different being back "inside the wire" we could use the phone, take hot showers, watch movies and relax.  Everybody could sleep at the same time without somebody being up to keep watch.  We woke up when we wanted to and had little to do in-between meals. We had what they call "the thousand yard stare".  Not only were we being resupplied with gear and ammo but people also. Not everybody in camp had been through what we had and some had not even set foot outside the wire.  I remember sitting in the chow hall eating, with only a few of the guys from my team.  Not exactly sure what it was but there was an explosion. I didn't even acknowledge the blast as I was in the middle of eating, but what happened next I will never forget.  I heard what I at first thought was debris landing on the roof, it was a sound like a hail storm hitting a tin roof that had just turned violent, and as I was trying to figure this all out I looked around and realized what was happening. The tables and chairs that everybody sat at to eat were all plastic folding picnic tables and outdoor cheap plastic chairs. There were probably two or three hundred people eating at that time and after the blast most of them, if not all of them fell to the ground. The sound of debris hitting the roof was not that at all but instead the scraping of the cheap plastic chairs being kicked out from under everybody as they lunged for cover. Me and the guys I was with looked at each other laughing after realizing how afraid everybody was. The joke was followed by another realization that we have been through something that has changed us, we were no longer laughing.

Surf and Turf Thanksgiving

  The last few days that we were in Fallujah were slower.  We had time to walk around and sleep.  It was also a time that I struggled with as one of our missions had been to block Iraqis from swimming across the Euphrates river.  Sgt. White talks about this in his book as "like shooting fish in a barrel"  Click on the picture of him playing the mandolin to read about it.
  

Nov 20,2004

    Things have slowed down the past few days. We have been finding things to do on our roof to help the time pass now that we are not getting shot at as much. Mario Tobias, the driver for our LAV, found some onions and that started it. After the grilled onions we made flat bread, then donuts with cinnamon and yesterday, I bought some eggs while on patrol and we had them today for breakfast.

    Yesterday we patrolled through a village where we had taken fire from days before. Things went smoothly. We took over 100 detainees and found a couple weapons caches. Days earlier when we made contact we killed nine of them and Wilson was the first CIC guy to be shot. From what I've heard, he will be okay. He was shot in the calf, in and out. A guy with him got jacked up, shot in the pelvis. A LAV from 3^rd Plt. was hit by a R-PG. It went right through the scout compartment. Lucky for the scouts they were not in it.

  The looks that we got as we returned to base camp were those of respect.  Everybody had been watching us on TV all month. They had been seeing our wounded and dead being flown in and out.  They knew what we had been going through yet they had no idea.  We walked with a strut. 

Nov 28th,2006

We got back inside the wire on Thanksgiving Day just in time to have a huge Thanksgiving meal. Yesterday we celebrated the 229^th birthday of the Marine Corps – late (10 Nov). After the cake cutting ceremony and a steak and lobster tail dinner, we were given 2 Budweiser and a shooter of Bacardi. Somehow I ended up drinking 4 beers and three shooters. Everybody had a good time.

It was more in celebration of still being alive than the birthday or Thanksgiving. We fought those bastards for almost 20 days straight. We killed more than I can count. We detained hundreds if not a thousand. We destroyed their city, and they still have the will to fight. They won't give up. Nobody could expect it to happen overnight. I can not put into words the satisfaction of taking control of the bridge were the Iraqi's hung four American civilian security contractors.

I am glad that I survived but wish that we all would of.  I am proud of how my men fought and without loosing our moral compass.  Not everybody in that city was the enemy, but it was hard to tell sometimes. 

The memories of that Thanksgiving have so far stayed with me through the years as my reason to give thanks.  To have survived the bloodiest battle of the war and to have had my men survive as well, is something that I am grateful for often, but always on Thanksgiving.  Although some Marines woke up in Germany and some not at all, I know that the Marines that wake up today are happy to be alive. 

I believe the memories of Fallujah will stay with me forever, and there are to many to write down and a lot that I will never share.  They are the ones that choke me up hearing the National Anthem and let me watch the fireworks on the fourth of July as more than just a show.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

I meet a girl

Nov 16

I've had a hard time keeping up with this General's log. It seems that so much can happen in a day. Anyway EOD's (explosive ordnance disposal) scouts pushed to the East clearing the houses we had just engaged, finding nobody – dead or alive.

    We continued with the mission moving slow, finding one IED (improvised explosive device) after the next. Watching around us Thompson turned and said to me that they were shooting at the Cobras (helicopters). I looked up to see the second, surface to air, missile launched into the sky. I quickly shot an Azimuth with my compass at its point of origin or as people like to say, it's "POO". Ha Ha

   

I think that I had impressed the Capt with my quick thinking to get an azimuth of the launched missile.  I remember he was at least surprised, then excited realizing he had a chance to get these guys.  He quickly had his maps in front of him on the radio calling for fire. 
To call for a fire mission, like I had done several days before, is when you give the known location of yourself and then the distance and direction (azimuth)  of the enemy.  Then, maybe miles away, a mortar platoon or artillery launches shells into the sky. One at a time at first, allowing you to see where they land and make adjustments to have the bombs drop right on top of the enemy. Once you are on target, you "fire for effect" and watch as the fire rains down.  All of this happening in the time it takes for a helicopter to crash.

 The helicopter dropped in elevation behind us, and then flew to our front where I couldn't see it land in a farm field. One pilot was okay while the other had shrapnel to his back and a broken arm. The injured pilot was ground medevacked and minutes later I handed the captain yellow smoke to mark an LZ (landing zone )for a 46 to pick up their pilot. He popped smoke and tossed it in the middle of the road about 30 meters from us. I didn't expect for the helicopter to land right on the smoke, but they did.

    The first pilot stayed back to provide security for the downed bird and we continued our mission. It was taking a lot longer than we had thought and had become dark. We had been finding IED's then trying to detonate them by shooting them with the .50 caliber or 25mm. If that didn't work we would have EOD come up and blow them in place. There would always be a countdown to detonation, or a heads up before someone engaged. But when I heard a nearby blast without either of those two things happening, I knew something was wrong.

 

   

A reserve battalion from Texas and Louisiana call sign "Cajun" had dismounts patrolling both sides of the road looking for wires leading up the road to an IED. Since it was now dark they were pretty much dragging their feet, hoping to trip over one. They had found one and followed it up to the road where it blew them up. The Captain called for an Air Medevac, but by the time Gunny had loaded up the casualties (2 urgent surgical, 2 urgent, and 1 priority) and two routine – the birds were coming in. I jumped out the back of my vehicle and cracked the two green chem-lights I had tied to the end of a bootlace I had taken off my K BAR and began swinging them over my head to mark the LZ with the "Buzz-saw". Two CH-46's landed right in front of me. The wind almost knocked me over. I met the flight nurse on the road, a woman. Even with everything going on, I still noticed and thought for a second, but could not recall the last time I talked to a girl face to face. She asked where the casualties were and where the corpsman was. I took her to the back of the log ,where the casualties had been loaded , and walked up just as the doors were swinging open. Doc jumped out and began talking with the nurse, yelling over the noise of the helicopter. I grabbed a corner of the liter with the most critical patient and began  running  him to the first bird. It was dark and loud, so I saw no blood, but I did notice how bad he was shaking. He was going into shock. We got him in and I went back for the next. He did not seem to be in as bad of shape as the first but heavier. We still got him there with a quick jog and just like that the helicopters flew away.

    That mission took us 25 hours to drive no more than 5 miles, finding a total of anywhere between 15 and 20 IED's. I had lost count.

I witness a miricle

 Nov 14

We are parked outside the Wolfpack CP, after bringing LCPL Aricidino here for Medevac. We were on the rooftop just finishing up eating breakfast when we were engaged from across the river. Dino was hit in the top right side of his back SAPI plate by a .50 CAL, knocking him off his feet. But there was no blood and he will be okay.

As I read what I had written I remember it being a lot more dramatic.  I try to understand why I would have watered it down so much.  I think that exhaustion had a lot to do with it, we had been fighting for days.  although it seemed as though things had begun to calm down, they hadn't. When we came under fire it was not a couple pot shots, we were being engaged.  I remember seeing Dino spin around as his feet came out from under him, I thought he was dead.  As the Doc made his way to us we searched for the location of our attackers and I don't even remember what the outcome of that was.  I made my way over to Dino only to find him sitting up with his shirt cut off.   This is a miracle.

The Sapi plate was a new technology that was designed to stop small arms fire, not .50 caliber rounds.  you can see how close it came to both missing the plate and even penetrating it. 

Just a few days ago we were tasked with clearing Route Boston from Vehicle Check Point 2 South to Route Iron. We had just stepped off. We had two tanks in front , then Cajun1/23 with dismounts clearing the shoulders of the road, them first then us with EOD in trace. We went not even 50 meters and were ambushed. The tanks took 3 RPG hits and one flew right in front of us hitting an oil tank elevated. The Capt. saw where the 4^th one had come from and took control of the turret traversing left and throwing a three round burst into the house.

I think that this was the first time that I had traveled outside of our CP since we began Phantom Fury.  The Cajun unit was an Army reserve company that we had attached to to help get us off the peninsula.  What had happened was as we came in hard and fast, the Iraqis had came in behind us.  We were trapped, pinned down, boxed in.  How could we have been so dumb.  We were going to have to fight our way out. 

Fog of War

Since I rode with the Company Commander we were in search for an ideal spot to set up his command post the driveway that we had just escaped had not provided us with any cover.  I made a mistake.  We walked down that drive with flashlights which I believe is what provided them a target. I am thankful that nobody was killed because of it. 

We turned down the next corner and again dismounted to patrol in front of the vehicles. McDonald made it from the back of the vehicle to the front before he passed out from his concussion. I was on the left side of the road and he was on the right. I ran over and sat him up by yanking his Flak. When he sat up he woke up and jumped to his feet not knowing where he was, spinning and pointing his rifle in every direction. Thompson reported more shots coming from the front.

The confusion of battle is described as the fog of war in which there no longer is a clear plan as to what you are doing, just reacting to whats going on without the confidence of whether you are making the right decisions.  McDonald was injured. We were taking fire and the mission of finding a place to set up command was still a priority.

    We medevaced McDonald and found our CP. Scouts cleared two huge houses and set up our LPOP (listening post/observation post) on the roof of the house on the West bank of the Euphrates. Everything was quiet for a couple of hours. Then it began to rain. The lightning from the storm gave away our position and we watched as an anti-aircraft gun walked its tracers down from the sky on to our rooftop. We returned fire, as did the LAV's on the ground. They stopped shooting at us with the AA gun, but small arms continued through the night.

Nobody slept that night.  We fought in the rain.  I was terrified. The fog had lifted and we knew what we needed to do.  We killed them before they killed us.  With the night almost over and the realization that we had survived, I remember thinking that it seemed that night had lasted a week.  How I had been blown up only hours ago and thinking if I would see McDonald again, I wouldn't. 

When the sun rose we saw at least a dozen sandbag reinforced fighting positions that we had taken out in the through the night. Things were quiet until two RP-G's were launched at us from a house just off to our south on the other side of the river, one bouncing off of black 4's LAV.  My scouts engaged as I called for fire with the 81mm mortars. After two adjustments, I fired for effect with the rounds dropping right on top of the house. I shot three more fire missions through out the day.

Phantom Fury

The Second Battle of Fallujah — code-names
Operation Al-Fajr (Arabic, "the dawn") and Operation Phantom Fury — was a joint U.S.-Iraqi -British offensive in November and December 2004. It was led by the U.S. Marine Corps against the Iraqi insurgency stronghold in the city of Fallujah and was authorized by the U.S.-appointed Iraqi Interim Government.

The U.S. military called it "some of the heaviest urban combat U.S. Marines have been involved in since the Battle of Huế City in Vietnam in 1968."


This operation was the second major operation in Fallujah. Earlier, in April 2004, Coalition Forces fought the First Battle of Fallujah in order to capture or kill insurgent elements considered responsible for the deaths of a Blackwater Security team. When Coalition Forces (a majority being U.S. Marines) fought into the center of the city, the Iraqi government requested that control of the city be turned over to an Iraqi-run local security force, which then began stockpiling weapons and building complex defenses across the city in mid-2004.

The Second Battle of Fallujah was the bloodiest battle of the Iraq War and has been the bloodiest battle of the twenty-first century to date.

Minutes before War

 The unease that had been following us from Korean Village had settled into a calm.  We had been given our orders and we were all very quite.  I remember that we decided to play poker while we waited.  It was a brilliant idea to keep our minds off what was to be ahead.

On Nov 7^th at 1900 we stepped of from ASP Rock to begin Operation Phantom Fury. 20 minutes later my vehicle was hit by an IED. We are guessing it was two 155 rounds buried on the right side of the road. The blast was tremendous. I had my back to it since I ride on the left side and it felt like I had been hit by a bus. My whole body was thrown forward by the blast, then falling into the vehicle through the scout hatch ,turned around upside down and feeling inside out. I had thought I had been hit.  

These are the craters left from the explosion 

Trying to decide how to explain the pain that is quickly replaced by adrenalin and anger I have decided is not possible, or maybe I just did. 

McDonald who was riding on the side of the blast also did not get hit by any shrapnel but was screaming that he could not hear. As the LAV kept moving the confusion continued. I checked that McDonald was not bleeding from the ears and kept asking the others if they were okay. We had stopped and Doc Patlen came up to assess McDonald and seemed relieved that it was just a loss of hearing. McDonald, angry as hell just kept screaming that he was okay and just could not hear. Doc said to make sure he did not go to sleep and we pushed forward. Looking for a place to set up the CP, the Capt. had the scouts out to open a gate to an Iraqi house. We were met by 4 Iraqi's who we sat down on the road by gunpoint. Thompson stayed with them as the rest of us opened the gate and began patrolling down the long driveway. McDonald was still unable to hear. The vehicle was 30-40 meters behind us when we came under fire from across the river. We all dropped into the prone as we saw tracers fly over our heads and heard the rounds whizzing by and hitting the tree branches in front of us. Within seconds the captain returned fire with the 25mm. We had no targets to engage from the prone and moved back to the vehicle. Johnstone had got them; he said at least 4. So the shooting had stopped but we still got the hell out of there.

Leaders Recon

Sgt. Sam White "posing" to yell

After arriving in Fallujah, we set up camp at an old Army base called now camp Manhattan.   They gave us a building to sleep in  with no electricity and buried behind weeds that needed to first be removed.  We found ourselves sitting outside not only because it was dark without lights but because we all wanted to be together....and there were some bats inside.

As the U.S. was beginning to mobilize around the city, planes overhead were dropping fliers warning the civilian citizens to get out.  They knew that we were about to invade and in just a few days the largest offensive to date in the war in Iraq was about to be underway.  There was an uneasy tension in the air at camp.  A kind of giddy, slap happy immaturity, nobody was ready to die and we were trying to do everything we could to keep ourselves from thinking about that.      

The leaders recon is a standard practice and is just what it says.  The leaders of the unit go out ahead of the main element and take a look at where they will be operating.  We also used this time as an opportunity to meet with Iraqi locals that sometimes were helpful and other times were not.  We would go from a village to the one next to it and the local attitudes towards Americans would be completely opposite.  They want pictures with you in one, and then down the road the kids are throwing rocks at you.

The next day was not as long. I sat in the turret with Johnstone while Capt. Conway and again with Lt. Pittson went on a leaders recon. Listening on the radio to a tow vehicle call in an anti-air gun spotted across the Euphrates. I was entertained by the radio traffic. Picturing me as the TOW gunner begging to get authorization, permission to shoot and then you could hear the mortars starting to land.

The TOW was the weapon system that I had been trained to operate during my first enlistment, after volunteering to go to Iraq I was made to be a scout team leader.  TOW stands for Tube launched, Optically tracked, Wire command linked guided missile system.

The next couple of days we began to set up vehicle checkpoints. Everyday we would be in the same place for hours and then we would get mortared. After the mortar attack we would find an IED the hard way. Our first casualty in the company was a Marine named Risides. The mortars landed as close to 30m from me. We displaced and headed north on Boston looking for the mortar position. When we came back south on Boston we pulled off to see the mortar craters. We were passed by 2nd Plt. and then fell in behind them. I heard over the intercom "Holy Fuck" as the Capt. and Johnstone saw the blast.
A second later I heard it. Then over the radio, LT. Edo saying they have been hit by the IED and have a casualty.

We stopped right in front of a wire going across the road into a pile of dirt. I had cleared possible IED's before but never seconds after one had gone off less than 100 m away. But when the Capt. told me to check it out, there was no hesitation. As soon as I made it to the front of our vehicle I saw the wire and knew it was not a threat. I reached down yanked the wire out of the ground and ran back to my vehicle catching a little of the medevac going on in front of us.
It was a taxicab with its hood up on the side of the road that was detonated as we rolled by.

The Garden of Eden

Fallujah was the insurgent strong hold that had taken the dead bodies of Blackwater contractors and hung them from the bridge in celebration seven months prior.   The week leading up to November we had to move. closer to the fight. 

Nov 1, 2004

    Everything has changed. I forget what day but we packed up and moved from probably one of the safest places in IRAQ to the most dangerous, Fallujah.

    The first day here just my vehicle and one other went on a leader's recon and shadowed the army. I found myself on the banks of the Euphrates's river, just across Fallujah, sweeping through orchards and crops looking for weapons caches and realized that I was in the birthplace of civilization. "The Garden of Eden" I can see why. From where I was in the middle of the desert to where I was standing was night and day. There were forests of Palm trees, blue water, soil not sand, and then gunfire.

    It was only one, maybe two shots coming from the Fallujah side of the river. A soldier said that he had heard the round fly over his head, as we looked for a gunman another single shot. This was the first one I actually heard and it sounded like a twig snapping but it was not close and I was not concerned. But it was a good feeling to actually be in danger. After the few months in KV I never got that feeling. I was pissed off that I had put my life on hold to come back and fight a war and I thought I would get off the plane shooting and ended up chasing guardrail thieves.

    Later that first day while driving back to base, Camp Manhattan, we stopped suddenly and angled the vehicle to block traffic and dismounted scouts. I was not in my usual seat with the radio to my ear, because we had brought Lt. Pittson, the 3^rd Platoon commander for the leaders Recon, so I never heard why we stopped but we jumped out and pushed out about 20 meters to stop traffic. The Captain said "if a car made it to us they would engage with the 25mm" so I knew he wasn't messing around. It was a busy road and cars did not need to be told to turn around the 25 mm told them that. Most of the cars were stopping and jumping the median about 100m from me. I thought I was going to have to shoot when a brown jeep speed past that invisible line,  I took three steps towards him  fast, bringing my rifle up into my shoulder. He locked up his breaks and cranked the wheel coming to a stop, across the median. It was a fun day. I felt like we were actually working and that I was actually at war, and it only got better... and worse.

Cordon and Knock

 The next day we went to a gas station/market and Iraqi Police Station next door I stood outside the IP (Iraqi Police) station, with my scouts in place, talking to Sgt. White - Sam. Sam is the only other CIC guy in my platoon. We waited while the captain and a guy from HIET (Human Intel Exploitation Team) along with Louie and the Gunny went inside and talked to the police after they were done we walked over to the gas station and "shopped" while SGT. Paul from HIET and Louie did their thing trying to get info on bad guys from shop owners. We went through a few buildings and got on top of one roof but I don't think we got anything out of the visit except for some chicken and soda that they gunny bought for us.

We came back to KV for our three days back and on day two went out for what was only supposed to be a few hours to do a maintenance 25mm shoot. As soon as we were on our way back we got a call from higher saying that we were needed for a cordon and knock in Ah Rutba, so we waited for the others to come out to where we were, and then moved in.

We usually did not go into the city they wanted the IP's to try and do their job so this was my first time other than when we first got to IRAQ and an IED was found on the edge of town.  We rolled in with our huge LAV driving down alley's and narrow streets as the sun was going down. We blocked off two blocks around the target house and you could hear Marines banging on doors.  Things seemed to be going smooth. Sam and I had our Scouts out there wasn't a lot of traffic or people then the lights went out. Power was off in the whole city as I looked through my NVG's, we had cut power to the city, just to kick down this guy's door.

All I saw was infrared spotlights and laser sights. Then I heard an explosion, I didn't see the blast but I could tell it was close to 50 to 75 meters. After about one minute of confusion we were back in our vehicle but didn't move far. Overall we came back with zero detainees.

Moral Compass

At one of the stops from Kuwait to KV our company met with the regimental commander who talked to us about why we were in Iraq.
 1. Help the Iraqi people
 2. Kill anyone who try's to stop us from doing #1
 3. Do #1 and  #2 without harming a single  innocent Iraqi
 4. Do # 1 #2 and #3 without loosing your moral compass 

 

 After leaving the six men on the street picking up their things off the road

Oct 14th  

We went to talk to the INGs (Iraqi National Guard) they had said that it was them that had fired the shots as they were shooting at a car that was not stopping at their check point.  They were lying.  There was no empty shell casings and they could not even give a description of the car.

The ING were difficult to work with but we wanted them to be able to police their own country.  As well as telling us not to loose our moral compass the Colonel told us what it might be like to be ING.  He asked for somebody to name a city in the U.S. and a Marine shouted Memphis.  The Colonel began to tell a story.

Say that you have lived in Memphis your whole life and you decide that you are going to do your part so you apply to the Memphis police department.  The next Sunday you go to the church you have gone to your entire life and as you walk in there is a piece of paper with your name on it, posted so that everyone can read and it says " If you work for the P.D. we will kill you" so you take it down and show it to your priest and he says that he cannot help. That you are on your own. You take the note to the P.D. and even the FBI and they all say the same thing, they can't help you are on your own.  You still want to be a cop and interview for the job.  The next Sunday the note says " if you work for the P.D. we will kill your family." You take the note down and show it to the same people and they all say the same thing. There is nothing they can do, you are on your own.  This makes you want to be a cop even more, this is what is wrong with your city.  You get the job and begin training at the police academy.  That Sunday there is no note.  When you get home from church you find the head of your 12 year old son on the door step.

This happened to an Iraqi.  Out of the first class of 40 Iraqis that were trained by coalition forces only 12 finished and when it came time to work only 4 showed up.

Oct 14th 2006

During the first few months in Iraq we fought nothing but boredom.  We had made our way through Iraq from Kuwait without incident.  Ending up at Camp Korean Village near the Syrian border.  It was said to probably be the safest place in Iraq.  This is a picture of Ar Rutba, the city just outside of KV.

3rd LAR C.I.C.

The guys that I had come to know better than anybody else were others who had volunteered to return to active duty after being discharged.  We called ourselves the CIC.  Civilians in Cammies.





The trip had taken us three days.  I was a scout, which meant that I was riding in the back of an LAV with my head and arms exposed to anything.  I feared being attacked from above as we would drive under overpasses on the highway. I thought that we were such an easy target for a grenade to be dropped in from the bridges above us.  I catch myself thinking of those first three days in country even still today sometimes when I lookiup at the bridges I drive under.

OCT 14th 2006

It has been a busy week, our first day out on patrol and red platoon had shots fired over their heads at the Phoenix-Mobile intersection.  We rushed to their position and blocked traffic on Phoenix.  As the cars began to stack up I deployed my scouts on orders from the Capt.  to begin searching cars for weapons that might have been used in the shooting.  With guns drawn I ordered the people in the first car to get out. As I watched the six men climb out of the small car I quickly realized that we did not speak the same language.  With the help of our translator, Louie, the search continued.  just as I was throwing blankets on to the street from the trunk I was told that we were moving out. I left the blankets on the street.

 

PRIVATE

THIS IS A PRIVATE RECORD

IT IS ASKED, THAT IF I AM TO DIE, IT NOT BE READ BY ANYONE IN MY CHAIN OF COMMAND.

THAT IT BE GIVEN ONLY TO MY FATHER, CHARLES HAGBURG, 

WHO CAN SHARE ITS CONTENTS WITH ANYONE HE CHOOSES.

David S. Hagburg

This diary begins in June of 2004. It was a record kept of my life while I served as a Marine with 3rd Light Armored Reconnaissance in the Al Anbar providence of Iraq during Operation Iraqi Freedom II.  I have decided to revisit my thoughts and share some of them with you. 

I never planned on returning from Iraq.  I try to remind myself that I am glad I did.

Six years ago this week I wrote that I was unable to call my sister on her birthday, when she turned 23. I talked about how "I remembered when her and I did not get along but that now, I cherish her friendship" On her birthday six years ago I detained 10 men, a convoy was attacked and a Cobra helicopter needed our help in making an emergency landing.

My next entry was six years ago tomorrow, Oct 14th 2004