Wingmen.
An MV-22B Osprey assigned to Marine Medium Tiltrotor Squadron (VMM) 266 (Reinforced), 26th Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU), prepares to land on the flight deck of the USS San Antonio (LPD 17), in the U.S. 5th Fleet area of responsibility. The 26th MEU is a Marine Air-Ground Task Force forward deployed to the U.S. 5th Fleet area of responsibility aboard the Kearsarge Amphibious Ready Group serving as a sea-based, expeditionary crisis response force capable of conducting amphibious operations across the full range of military operations.
(Photo by Lance Cpl. Juanenrique Owings, 26th MEU Combat Camera, 5 JUN 2013.) High-res

Wingmen.

An MV-22B Osprey assigned to Marine Medium Tiltrotor Squadron (VMM) 266 (Reinforced), 26th Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU), prepares to land on the flight deck of the USS San Antonio (LPD 17), in the U.S. 5th Fleet area of responsibility. The 26th MEU is a Marine Air-Ground Task Force forward deployed to the U.S. 5th Fleet area of responsibility aboard the Kearsarge Amphibious Ready Group serving as a sea-based, expeditionary crisis response force capable of conducting amphibious operations across the full range of military operations.

(Photo by Lance Cpl. Juanenrique Owings, 26th MEU Combat Camera, 5 JUN 2013.)

Back to the barn.

An CH-53E Super Stallion assigned to Marine Medium Tiltrotor Squadron (VMM) 266 (Reinforced), 26th MEU, prepares to land on the flight deck of the USS San Antonio (LPD 17), while sailing in the U.S. 5th Fleet area of responsibility. The 26th MEU is a Marine Air-Ground Task Force forward deployed to the U.S. 5th Fleet area of responsibility aboard the Kearsarge Amphibious Ready Group serving as a sea-based, expeditionary crisis response force capable of conducting amphibious operations across the full range of military operations.

(Photos by Lance Cpl. Juanenrique Owings, 26th MEU Combat Camera, 2 JUN 2013.)

Evening Quickie #soldierporn: Going out in a blaze of glory.
The sun sets behind the USS San Antonio (LPD 17), in the U.S. 5th Fleet area of responsibility. The 26th MEU is a Marine Air-Ground Task Force forward deployed to the U.S. 5th Fleet area of responsibility aboard the Kearsarge Amphibious Ready Group serving as a sea-based, expeditionary crisis response force capable of conducting amphibious operations across the full range of military operations.
(Photo by Lance Cpl. Juanenrique Owings, 26th MEU Combat Camera, 27 MAY 2013.) High-res

Evening Quickie #soldierporn: Going out in a blaze of glory.

The sun sets behind the USS San Antonio (LPD 17), in the U.S. 5th Fleet area of responsibility. The 26th MEU is a Marine Air-Ground Task Force forward deployed to the U.S. 5th Fleet area of responsibility aboard the Kearsarge Amphibious Ready Group serving as a sea-based, expeditionary crisis response force capable of conducting amphibious operations across the full range of military operations.

(Photo by Lance Cpl. Juanenrique Owings, 26th MEU Combat Camera, 27 MAY 2013.)

Reading List Review: Into the Fire, by D. Meyer & B. West

Last fall, I had the unexpected pleasure of receiving a hardback copy of Into the Fire, by Dakota Meyer and Bing West.

It has taken me no few months to read it. The time it took was partially due to scheduling conflicts, but mostly due to the intensity of the subject matter and the raw, visceral nature with which it is conveyed.

From a technical perspective, the greater portion of this is Meyer’s firsthand account of the battle of Ganjigal and the events that followed. West’s influence is most palpable through these action sequences, and the flashes of insight taking place beyond Meyer’s awareness during the events. The battle sequences are presented in simplified language that a civilian unfamiliar with military terminology is likely to understand and follow with only marginal difficulty. Much like Meyer, they are clean, simple, and straightforward—as much as the accounting of battle and warfare can be described as such.

Though it’s largely intended to be a story of how he received the Medal of Honor, I found it to be more a story of why. This is more than just a detailed reiteration of the citation that accompanied his medal. His voice and words created for me a vivid imagery of the man within the uniform, of the ethics and solid character that led him to the choices he made.

Bing West actually does an exemplary job of summing up Meyer’s book in a single word.

Grit.

From this reader’s perspective, the most crucial thread in Meyer’s story is the account of a combat veteran having returned home. After giving this detailed portrayal of firefights and recovering the members of his team, he comes home and sits through cognitive therapy and explains how the self medication with alcohol that began immediately following Gangijal returns to prominence.

There are pieces here, precious shards that flash glimpses from the inside of this man’s mind. An attentive reader will be able to freeze each moment and study them, carefully, both individually and as pieces of a very important whole. That whole being the mind of a combat veteran, of a person who has seen and done things to which so very few of us can relate. Some of us might claim to “get it,” but our comprehension is shallow and hollow and transparent. Meyer offers himself as though in sacrifice or penance, opening himself to the reader so that we might step a little closer to understanding. So that we can share his burden, because he shouldn’t bear it alone. The responsibility belongs to each of us, as human beings, as members of the free world, as citizens of this nation in whose defense Meyer voluntarily took up arms.

I have on many occasions mentioned that the one thing that can help cure this disconnect between military and civilian populations is “soldier stories” — veterans of any and every stripe reaching out to share their thoughts, their experiences, down to the very raw depths; sharing the burden of what has happened, sharing the moral and ethical impact of war so that they no longer feel encumbered with the implications alone.

Dakota Meyer does this with Into the Fire. His words resonate, from beginning to end. This is one story that everyone should read, absorbing every word and every image painted with them—from the green rolling hills of Kentucky to the bloodied puddles of mud just feet from the door of an MRAP and the salvation of a combat medic inside, to the click of the Glock’s hammer resounding through an empty chamber.

This is not so much the story of a reluctant hero as it is the story of a man who feels rewarded for failure. And that facet of Meyer’s book makes it take on a depth all its own.

Night Mare and High Noon Stallion.

Soldiers with Afghan National Security Forces alongside U.S. Marines with Fox Company, 2nd Battalion, 8th Marines (2/8), Regimental Combat Team 7, board a CH-53E Super Stallion during Operation Nightmare on Camp Bastion, Afghanistan. Operation Nightmare was a clearing operation led by Afghan National Security Forces and supported by the Marines of 2/8. (Photos by Kowshon Ye, 6 JUN 2013.)

SOLDIER STORIES: Follow In The Footsteps

thethroneroom:

One thing they teach us from the earliest days of our military training is, when on patrol, to follow in the footsteps of the person in front of you. Likewise, when in a convoy, we are instructed to drive in the tracks of the vehicle in front of us.

It’s a matter of common sense. If the person in front of you survived, then you will, too. The same can’t be said if you step elsewhere.

I was reminded of this last night when I was driving back from the range. I was following in trace of a vehicle that had left a short while ahead of me which was pulling a water buffalo with the spigot open to drain the water. I could see the trail of water in the center of the lane as I drove along.

All of a sudden, the trail veered to the left, and I thought it odd, until I came upon a huge pothole adjacent to the right shoulder of the lane in which I was driving. I swerved early enough to miss the pothole, but if I’d just trusted that the vehicle in front of me knew what was going on and followed its trail, I wouldn’t have had to jerk the wheel.

Sure, it wasn’t an IED, and my truck could have handled the pothole, but it still served as a reminder of the lessons I was taught so long ago, which I shouldn’t have allowed to fade as much as it appears I have.

“Am I going to die? Am I going to be alright?”
The words were pretty standard, given the blood all over the poor guy.
“Am I going to be okay?”

It took me a minute to realize where I was. I had been driving back to the farm from some buddy’s house, and I came across a pickup truck on its side. It was like something you would see at Dab Khar. Smoke was coming out from the engire as if it had just taken an RPG.

I pulled over quickly and ran low to the truck, even though there were no bullets hitting around me. I jumped up on the hood and opened the driver’s door skyward—it’s heavy when the vehicle is on its side like that.

There was blood all over the windshield and the interior. The driver, a young guy, was hung up in his seat belt with blood pouring out of his left arm, sliced to the bone.

I lifted him out, which was hard, though I didn’t feel my back hurting at all, which was good. I got him down to the ground, took off his belt and cinched it tight around his biceps to stop the bleeding.
Another driver had stopped and called for an ambulance. It wouldn’t come for a good twenty minutes.
He kept asking, “Am I going to be alright?”

“Sure, you’re fine. I’ve seen a lot worse than this.”

Into the Fire, by Dakota Meyer. USMC Corporal and Medal of Honor recipient. [page 183]

Everyone around me was excited about football, Christmas, and other normal things; I was looking at the clapboard houses and the cars and thinking, “man—so flimsy. They wouldn’t give cover worth shit in a firefight.”

It was an exposed feeling. And where were my machine guns?
I found my old pistol and kept it around like a rabbit’s foot, but I missed my 240s and .50-cals something awful.

It seems weird, I’m sure, but I really just wasn’t buying it that there wasn’t some enemy about to come over the green hills, and I felt so unprepared—

I wouldn’t be any good to protect anybody.

Into the Fire, by Dakota Meyer. USMC Corporal and Medal of Honor recipient. [page 178]

Someone’s day just got a lot worse.

U.S. Marines with Romeo Battery, 5th Battalion, 11th Marines (5/11), Regimental Combat Team 7 fire rockets from a M142 High Mobility Artillery Rocket System (HIMARS) on Camp Leatherneck, Helmand province. Marines with 5/11 are deployed to Afghanistan in support of Operation Enduring Freedom.

(Photo by Sgt. Anthony L. Ortiz, 1 JUN 2013.)