First Regretted Quitting, Now Glad More Than Ever!

When I first was introduced to the United States Marine Corps in 2010, it was due to some jackass popular football player in my class at the  end of junior year in high school. He was basically trying to get two referrals so can get contract PFC (when he graduated from boot he didn’t get it, thank god). At any rate you got a 16-year-old kid who is about a nerd in high school, doesn’t have the best luck with females, and barely passes most of his classes, and in poor physical shape. With the feeling that I wasn’t going to get far in college, why not talk to the recruiter? To the office I went, and boy. Did I take the bait like a hungry fish that hadn’t eaten for days!!

I was about as a hyped up motard as anyone can describe after that first interview with my recruiter. Being shown uniforms, oversea duty stations, “OMG the superman uniform Dress Blues?! I get to wear that?!!?” “I’ll get to finally be in shape and everyone is going to like me?!?!” hearing stories about how awesome being in Okinawa was, seeing the silent drill platoon photos. It wasn’t hard for the recruiter to nail another number like me in. After this I kept going to PT, getting motivated but the other recruiters that would lead PT with their BS pep talks about being a Marine and how awesome life and how much ladies would want me. I was already thinking and acting like I was going to be something above my friends. After all; what do they do? Go to parties, drink, and all going to college. I’m doing something soooo much better than everyone I know in my social life! This is so awesome I can’t wait!!
However, I was very afraid of bootcamp. I could not ask enough questions about it, “what if I don’t make it, what if I find it too hard? What’s gonna happen can I Fail?” My recruiter of course, kept reassuring me that I won’t fail and that I will make it- just keep going to PT!!
Funny thing now to add is that I had to take the ASVAB 3 times in order to finally qualify, THREE motherflipping times!! I passed on my 3rd, but the point I am trying to make here is if you’re “The Few, The Proud” why in the holy demon’s name do you need a kid who can barely pass the ASVAB?! You would think after second time my recruiter wouldn’t work with me anymore but NO! I was dumb enough to believe that he really wants what’s best for me and that he knows I will do great and be an asset to the Corps which is why he will continue to enlist me. This of course motivated me try harder and really want to be a Marine so badly, my recruiter likes me and wants to see me a successful Marine OORAH! I then continued my motarded self to purchase shirts that said Marines all over it, even telling people I will be the reason why they are able to sleep peacefully at night.
When it was finally time for me to go after I finished high school and shipped to Parris Island, I was already discovered by TD 3. I was always the last one to leave the squadbay, I lose gear all the time, I sucked at drill, and was too damn slow to get dressed!! I don’t think I ever got abused, but I got IT’d probably 9 times in a day every day. I was placed on trial training because I sucked at the obstacle course in addition to everything I mentioned earlier. Following the conclusion of trial training, I failed the MCMAP test (yes I know- who in their right mind fails the dumb MCMAP test?! ME.) so of course, I was recycled from TD 26 to TD 2.

Being recycled was the worst, worst time of my life. Dumping all your stupid gear out, and then showing it to the dumb DI who can’t seem to count how many socks you have, packing it all back up, just for another DI to count it again, dump it out at the BAS, then pack it up, just to DUMP it out again in your new platoon. I was in Golf Company, dropped into Delta Company, and man it was retarded. All my officers kept telling me “This is for you to better yourself; you’ll be ahead of all these other recruits blah blah blah”. Nope, it was more like the opposite; I kept getting singled out each day because I was a pickup, got water and detergent poured into my footlocker because I didn’t get on line fast enough, and everything they did was more of a culture shock to me. I used to be able to at least brush my teeth and breathe in Golf Co., but in Delta the DI would count down the seconds the entire time, every night.

It came neatly to the point, for example, during weapons maintenance (I hated every single second of doing this crap) one DI told me to get up, stop cleaning the weapon, and then go do something else. Of course after this, my rackmate would have to put my weapon back together, then secure to his lock. When this happened, I got ITd and chewed out the next day because I didn’t know how to secure my weapon, and it was at this point TD 35. During one IT session, the same DI stepped on my BCGs, and the next day chewed me out because I was wearing civilian glasses, and I should somehow figure out how to put the BCGs on my face. Now we were at the rifle range and somehow, I just have no idea how, but after I finished shooting there was a live round in my blouse. The caused me to be an integrity violator and in addition to being a “below average performance Recruit” my SDI attempted to get me recycled again.
At this point I had had it with bootcamp. Everything I could do was wrong, I was a pickup I should know this shit, blah blah blah, so when I was faced with my Co. Commander I told him to send me home. He then told me just get it together and you will graduate!! It’s only another week back! They are willing to train you. Nope, that’s it. I’m going home; I’m tired of packing up trash, and dumping it out again. The Co. Commander told me what a shame it was and then finally sent me to RSP. When I finally got back home, I was lost…

There was no welcome home from anyone, nor was there any “I missed you” none of the sort. Everyone I knew was disappointed, and I didn’t blame them. I had all this dumb bravado of being a MARINEE OORAH that people got sick of hearing and for me to not follow through is pathetic. These were my thoughts for about a year later all I did was work a dead-end job again and found little reasons to be successful, not much friends sticking around I was in a very unhappy back home. I decided that I wanted to try again for the military- now in much better physical shape and with more knowledge about the military.

Before this gets much longer than it already is; to sum it up, I enlisted into the Air Force Reserve, and it was unquestionably the best choice I have ever made! I graduated bootcamp as an honor graduate, and continue to enjoy serving as I have a civilian job I enjoy working, while going to school online. I was finally able to put the USMC behind me with no regrets, and when I happened to stop by this website I was so thankful that I didn’t make it! From what I read from various blogs here, the COC in the Corps is way up their ass! In the AF, or at least in my wing everyone in the COC has an open door policy! This goes from the 1st Sgt, to the Squadron Commander, up to the Wing Commander (should be stated that he is now a BGen yet still has an open door to all Airmen). The choice I made to join the USMC was a blind one but I’m glad it is over!

A Veteran’s Apology

I write this Veteran’s day to apologize.

I swore to defend the constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic, and I failed that oath.

I failed to stand against a government who passed the PATRIOT act in violation of the 4th Amendment.

I failed by deploying without a formal declaration of war in violation of Article 1 section 8.

I failed to liberate people held indefinitely without charges in violation of Article 1, section 9, and the 5th Amendment.

I failed to stand against digitally strip searching, or enhanced pat-downs without probable cause or warrant in violation of the 4th Amendment.

I failed to defend Farmers from being raided by FDA agents for selling Fresh milk.

I failed to stand against assassinating American citizens on an accusation in violation of the 5th, 6th, and 14th Amendments.

I can’t name all the constitutional violations the federal government has taken. There are other violations by state and local governments such as the murder and cover-up of a deaf man by Seattle Police, or the violations from before I took my oath.

Victimless laws classified as crimes against government are what Thomas Jefferson defined as Tyranny, or that which is illegal for the people, but legal for the government.

I failed because I haven’t stood up. I am a coward, caring more for my career than for American’s liberty. I failed my duty, and I’ve no honor on Veteran’s day. America is not the land of the free because I haven’t been brave.

CPT Jack. R. T.
US Army Resigned – Iraq Vet.
Level III MACP instructor, USYKA/WYKKO sensei
Professional Hunter/Trapper/Country living survivalist.

 

Source: https://www.facebook.com/toolsofwar/posts/10151057854521995

“I Am Sorry That It Has Come to This”: A Soldier’s Last Words

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Daniel Somers was a veteran of Operation Iraqi Freedom. He was part of Task Force Lightning, an intelligence unit. In 2004-2005, he was mainly assigned to a Tactical Human-Intelligence Team (THT) in Baghdad, Iraq, where he ran more than 400 combat missions as a machine gunner in the turret of a Humvee, interviewed countless Iraqis ranging from concerned citizens to community leaders and and government officials, and interrogated dozens of insurgents and terrorist suspects. In 2006-2007, Daniel worked with Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) through his former unit in Mosul where he ran the Northern Iraq Intelligence Center. His official role was as a senior analyst for the Levant (Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, Israel, and part of Turkey). Daniel suffered greatly from PTSD and had been diagnosed with traumatic brain injury and several other war-related conditions. On June 10, 2013, Daniel wrote the following letter to his family before taking his life. Daniel was 30 years old. His wife and family have given permission to publish it.

I am sorry that it has come to this.

The fact is, for as long as I can remember my motivation for getting up every day has been so that you would not have to bury me. As things have continued to get worse, it has become clear that this alone is not a sufficient reason to carry on. The fact is, I am not getting better, I am not going to get better, and I will most certainly deteriorate further as time goes on. From a logical standpoint, it is better to simply end things quickly and let any repercussions from that play out in the short term than to drag things out into the long term.

You will perhaps be sad for a time, but over time you will forget and begin to carry on. Far better that than to inflict my growing misery upon you for years and decades to come, dragging you down with me. It is because I love you that I can not do this to you. You will come to see that it is a far better thing as one day after another passes during which you do not have to worry about me or even give me a second thought. You will find that your world is better without me in it.

I really have been trying to hang on, for more than a decade now. Each day has been a testament to the extent to which I cared, suffering unspeakable horror as quietly as possible so that you could feel as though I was still here for you. In truth, I was nothing more than a prop, filling space so that my absence would not be noted. In truth, I have already been absent for a long, long time.

My body has become nothing but a cage, a source of pain and constant problems. The illness I have has caused me pain that not even the strongest medicines could dull, and there is no cure. All day, every day a screaming agony in every nerve ending in my body. It is nothing short of torture. My mind is a wasteland, filled with visions of incredible horror, unceasing depression, and crippling anxiety, even with all of the medications the doctors dare give. Simple things that everyone else takes for granted are nearly impossible for me. I can not laugh or cry. I can barely leave the house. I derive no pleasure from any activity. Everything simply comes down to passing time until I can sleep again. Now, to sleep forever seems to be the most merciful thing.

You must not blame yourself. The simple truth is this: During my first deployment, I was made to participate in things, the enormity of which is hard to describe. War crimes, crimes against humanity. Though I did not participate willingly, and made what I thought was my best effort to stop these events, there are some things that a person simply can not come back from. I take some pride in that, actually, as to move on in life after being part of such a thing would be the mark of a sociopath in my mind. These things go far beyond what most are even aware of.

To force me to do these things and then participate in the ensuing coverup is more than any government has the right to demand. Then, the same government has turned around and abandoned me. They offer no help, and actively block the pursuit of gaining outside help via their corrupt agents at the DEA. Any blame rests with them.

Beyond that, there are the host of physical illnesses that have struck me down again and again, for which they also offer no help. There might be some progress by now if they had not spent nearly twenty years denying the illness that I and so many others were exposed to. Further complicating matters is the repeated and severe brain injuries to which I was subjected, which they also seem to be expending no effort into understanding. What is known is that each of these should have been cause enough for immediate medical attention, which was not rendered.

Lastly, the DEA enters the picture again as they have now managed to create such a culture of fear in the medical community that doctors are too scared to even take the necessary steps to control the symptoms. All under the guise of a completely manufactured “overprescribing epidemic,” which stands in stark relief to all of the legitimate research, which shows the opposite to be true. Perhaps, with the right medication at the right doses, I could have bought a couple of decent years, but even that is too much to ask from a regime built upon the idea that suffering is noble and relief is just for the weak.

However, when the challenges facing a person are already so great that all but the weakest would give up, these extra factors are enough to push a person over the edge.

Is it any wonder then that the latest figures show 22 veterans killing themselves each day? That is more veterans than children killed at Sandy Hook, every single day. Where are the huge policy initiatives? Why isn’t the president standing with those families at the state of the union? Perhaps because we were not killed by a single lunatic, but rather by his own system of dehumanization, neglect, and indifference.

It leaves us to where all we have to look forward to is constant pain, misery, poverty, and dishonor. I assure you that, when the numbers do finally drop, it will merely be because those who were pushed the farthest are all already dead.

And for what? Bush’s religious lunacy? Cheney’s ever growing fortune and that of his corporate friends? Is this what we destroy lives for

Since then, I have tried everything to fill the void. I tried to move into a position of greater power and influence to try and right some of the wrongs. I deployed again, where I put a huge emphasis on saving lives. The fact of the matter, though, is that any new lives saved do not replace those who were murdered. It is an exercise in futility.

Then, I pursued replacing destruction with creation. For a time this provided a distraction, but it could not last. The fact is that any kind of ordinary life is an insult to those who died at my hand. How can I possibly go around like everyone else while the widows and orphans I created continue to struggle? If they could see me sitting here in suburbia, in my comfortable home working on some music project they would be outraged, and rightfully so.

I thought perhaps I could make some headway with this film project, maybe even directly appealing to those I had wronged and exposing a greater truth, but that is also now being taken away from me. I fear that, just as with everything else that requires the involvement of people who can not understand by virtue of never having been there, it is going to fall apart as careers get in the way.

The last thought that has occurred to me is one of some kind of final mission. It is true that I have found that I am capable of finding some kind of reprieve by doing things that are worthwhile on the scale of life and death. While it is a nice thought to consider doing some good with my skills, experience, and killer instinct, the truth is that it isn’t realistic. First, there are the logistics of financing and equipping my own operation, then there is the near certainty of a grisly death, international incidents, and being branded a terrorist in the media that would follow. What is really stopping me, though, is that I simply am too sick to be effective in the field anymore. That, too, has been taken from me.

Thus, I am left with basically nothing. Too trapped in a war to be at peace, too damaged to be at war. Abandoned by those who would take the easy route, and a liability to those who stick it out—and thus deserve better. So you see, not only am I better off dead, but the world is better without me in it

This is what brought me to my actual final mission. Not suicide, but a mercy killing. I know how to kill, and I know how to do it so that there is no pain whatsoever. It was quick, and I did not suffer. And above all, now I am free. I feel no more pain. I have no more nightmares or flashbacks or hallucinations. I am no longer constantly depressed or afraid or worried

I am free.

I ask that you be happy for me for that. It is perhaps the best break I could have hoped for. Please accept this and be glad for me.

Daniel Somers

[Photo via Gettypremium]

Source: Gawker.com

The Army Deserves More Credit

You know the Marine Corps is all image and they always like putting down the Army. Since when was the last time the Marine Corps pulled a successful operation that didn’t fail, besides WWII in the Pacific. The U.S Army 3rd infantry division had to wait 6 days for the USMC to arrive into Baghdad but by that time Saddam Hussein had already escaped. And there was a river they were supposed to cross and I believed it was the river into Nasiriyah. And with there amphibious assault vehicles they weren’t able to even cross the river which led to the self named town. Why were they spending 24hrs just trying to lay out a bridge, and the battle of Fallujah guess what? They lost it the first time and waited half a year to retake it back and when they did they had to call the Army to take it back for them. Then afterwards everyone gave credit to the Marines and barely mention the Army. The USMC always try to blame half of their issues on the Army just because the Army had more successful operations of tearing down the enemy and making sure they can’t come back. The USMC is made of nothing but narcissists that always blame the Army, when the Army always protects the nation and they actually treat the recruits like men instead of little kids. So, always give some credit to the Army they actually do more than the Marines and they have the audacity to say that the Army doesn’t do crap.

Submitted by: Devanteg594237