Here’s a passage from Sgt. Thomas Strickland, a U.S. soldier serving in Iraq, from his blog earlier this month:
What the fuck has my chain of command been doing? We were winning somewhat when I left. And now we’re being pinned down in our own fucking homes? Insurgents are pushing locals out of their homes and taking over my area at will? What kind of fucktarded plan have we been half-assedly executing? Obviously the kind that neglects sound contact with locals. Obviously the kind that gives further distance to unbridged gaps between soldiers and locals. Obviously the kind that has shown enough weakness when confronted by the insurgency that it has been encouraged to grow.
Back home (the USA kind) I have no home, no job, and my commander in chief is on vacation (he’s about 20 days behind Ronald Reagan right now in the race to become the most vacationing president ever. Hey W! we all got our fingers crossed! Here’s to you and two more years of presidency…er vacationing!). Luckily pretty much everything that is important to me can fit into the back of a truck. Luckily I just paid off one of those.
In their fear to build relationships and get out of their hiding holes the FOBbits above me have fucked my friends and I.
Two days later, Sgt. Strickland was killed when his truck overturned.