Middle East MRE Conference

On my way to Pakistan to meet with high commanding Pakistani Officers I was commanded to introduce our ways of distributing MRE's to deployed soldiers. On the plane I continuously wondered why the women of these Muslim countries wore hijabs and other head scarfs or hair peices. I stepped off the AC-130 Hercules and onto the sandy runway that the pakistani Air Force had provided for us. As i continued towards the meeting point i was met by three men in their military attire. After modeling the American MRE's and explaining how we distribute them I proceeded to ask the question that bothered me continuously through the plane ride. They offered to take me to their homes and have their wives explain to me why they had to wear them. As I sauntered through the streets of Pakistan I appeared at Officer Osali Buh Hamen's house I met his wife at the front door Skakiki Bel Hamen wearing her head scarf covering all her face but her eyes. She told me that she wore this because her face and body is a diamond for only her family and husband to see, not for other males or her public. It is a religious choice that she makes to hide her body for her God and close family. If another man saw her face then her beauty would be leaked and it would be a sin. As I later shook her hand to leave I slipped on their prayer mat and accidentally grabbed her head scarf, revealing her face to all in the house. Her husband quickly jumped on me covering my eyes. I quickly apologized as he escorted me outside yelling in his native tongue. I then told him taht I never saw her face and her body was saved. He glared at me and told me to leave his country.

Growing up in a home with 5 sisters, no brothers, and a single mother, I was pressured into becoming a cheerleader at a young age by my older sisters. Naturally wanting to play football and baseball, my mother drove me to dance practice every Tuesday and Thursday until I finally stood up for myself after a humiliating recital in which every girl in my 1st grade class witnessed me slip off the stage while doing a triple somersault mctwist back flip, breaking my noise in three places and spewing out blood in all directions. Of course, being in 1st grade, I cried for hours as my tears fell to the ground directly outside of the girls changing room, makeup running down my face. This humiliating incident caused me to want to become the manliest man of all time. I immediately chopped off my blonde locks into a crew cut and began playing cops and robbers rather than freeze tag. In high school I excelled in paintball and football as I threw darts at the 1st grade girls dance teams photo. As unfortunate as this incident was, I thank God every night for making me fall and cry that gloomy 1994 September day. If it was not for the showering of blood over my pink leather jacket, I would be a very interesting person at this point in my life, and not in the military. Thank you Mother, Sisters, 1st grade class, and God

HOORAH

This boy was me as a 1st grader. :( Then the warrior is me in high school, what a change.

I remember the good ole days, before the video game warfare era, when pilots flew single engine fighter jets with low pressure and a single propeller. That was before the geniuses throughout the world turned war into a huge video game. Now I have to be trained in "Stick Skills" to fly a Predator Drone from a desk far from the actual aircraft. For my first task i was supposed to fly the Drone for 300 miles and drop a small bomb on a terrorist installation to kill 3 harmful terrorists. Unfortunately, at about the 150 mile mark I dropped my coffee and spilled it all over the control desk. The Drone went spiraling into the dirt causing a huge explosion and completely blowing our cover. Lucky for me, this is exactly why this was a simulation and not the real deal.

Follow These Links For More Drone Action!!:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1l7aHIsf8hQ
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/18/world/asia/18terror.html

Jarheads vs. Desk Jockeys

There is a secret grudge in the military, although they help us extremely, there is nothing worse than a desk jockey. As we punch through enemy lines and encroach into foreign lands with bullets blazing past our helmets sending goosebumps throughout the body with every hiss of a bullet; the desk jockeys are sitting at their cubicles reading the enemies movement and potential moves, or escorting pilots and troops through the tactical strategy of our superior officers. Usually, these desk jockeys are punching the keys of their keyboard with greasy fingers from their Burger King onion rings and french fries. As they eat their fast-food in the comfort of their computer screen shooting e-mails and chatting it up, my troop eats MRE's with explosions just miles away. It takes a smart man to be a desk jockey however, they have been a countless number of times where I have sent in for an air strike that has saved my life or a cargo drop that has provided me with ammo to protect myself. Personally, I'm the guy off of Zoolander the movie that thinks the files are "IN" the computer. Therefore, I have to respect the ability that my desk jockey foes protect me with.

Inked Up

Lets discuss the subject of tattoos. A lot of soldiers, especially marines, like to rock the USMC tattoo. However, most soldiers get tattoo's of American flags, eagles, or Bible verses. My story of getting a tat is pretty interesting. One day at the ripe age of 23, fresh out of OTS(Officer Training School), i decided to get a large eagle tattooed on my back with its talons ripping through my skin. I thought it sounded like a cool idea, and I didn't have a wife at the time to stop me. So I went to the tattoo parlor and showed the artist a picture of what i wanted. As the three-hundred heavily tattooed monster proceeded to wipe down my upper back with disinfectant, I realized something. What if at my old age i gained as much weight as the big guy about to draw on me. Then i would just be a fat tattooed guy also. Therefore at the last minute I decided to change my decision to a small Bible verse on my chest, Genesis 3:18. I was so happy that I did not go through with the large scary eagle, and if you plan on getting a tattoo to represent your country or faith. Think twice before you come down to a final decision.

Watch out for Firepower

A soldiers best friend is his weapon, Through the thick and the thin, they will always be there for the soldier to lean on. As dangerous as a situation may be, the soldier is given hope through their gun. I remember my first shooting at the gun range when I was just 19 years old. I took my semi-automatic rifle and aimed steadily at the target. Narrowing down the sight i slowly pulled the trigger. My hear pounded as I squeezed the trigger to initiate the sequence of sparking gunpowder to propel my bullets into the enemy. However, I did not realize that the force would cause the rifle to kick back at me. Forcing the gun straight into my aiming eye, causing me to bleed for hours. Unfortunately, my shooting was done for the day and I had a black eye for a week. Furthermore, this explains my hatred for semi-auto rifles. I prefer automatic pistols with less accuracy and a higher shooting rate. There are many of these automatic weapons. A soldier has to narrow their choices and choose the best gun that suits them. As for me it is the G36C. I love it, it is my life, it is my protection, it is my gun.

War Hair

In War there are many types of hairstyles. Most Commonly, there is the hand-scuffle, where you simply wake up, and quickly run your hands through your hair at every possible angle scuffling the hair in any direction it wishes to go. However, the lazier guys wear their hair in the helmet hair style throughout their time in the war. They simply do nothing to it and their hair molds to the shape of the inside of their helmet. When the occasional "vacation" may occur, where some soldiers get shipped off to the nearest base for a weekend or so to get a cot, rather than the ground, and a shower rather than a river-washing. On "vacations," many soldiers come back with the classic comb over, walking around with broad shoulders so proud of their beautiful hair-do. Last, there is the lucky ones, the guys who make it to the Barber Shop on their "vacation," these soldiers just shave it all off so they do not have to deal with it at all. Last but not least, there are the total opposite of the vacation-fortunate soldiers would be the front line Dirt-Gellers. These guys just have no care of their hygiene and just want to look good in the face of danger. Dirt-Gellers use a combination of the dirt below their boots and their own sweat to form a makeshift paste. After lathering the past through their hands they move on to spiking their hair in a variety of shapes.
So Remember:

Good Bad Gross
Comb Over Hand-Scuffle Dirt-Gel
Mr. Clean baldness Helmet-Hair

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