In case you missed it:

My Aunt sent this video. Thought I'd share it, in case you didn't see it the first time around...

Recent email from my Squadron:

I received the following email from one of my Chiefs back home. I don't mean to imply that my family and friends back home are SHEEP, necessarily, but post this more as a reflection of MY personality and willingness to be here. That being said, please don't be offended by this analogy.


Sir, just thinking of you during the holidays and thought you might enjoy this email someone sent to me. I hope your Christmas and New Year are uneventful and you stay safe.
Happy Holidays, AWC Johnson

A simple way to look at what we do in life, that so many others can look at it a different way.
Yes it is a long story but well worth reading.

In what category do you belong?, or what category do you desire to be? You have a choice to make !!!!!!!

Sheep, Wolves and Sheepdogs

This letter was written by Charles Grennel and his comrades, veterans of the Global War On Terror. Grennel is an Army Reservist who spent two years in Iraq and was a principal in putting together the first Iraq elections in January 2005. It was written to Jill Edwards, student at the University of Washington, who did not want to honor Medal of Honor winner USMC Colonel Greg Boyington. Ms. Edwards and other students and faculty do not think those who serve in the U.S. Armed Services are good role models.

To: Jill Edwards, Student, University of Washington

Subject: Sheep, Wolves and Sheepdogs

Miss Edwards, I read of your student activity regarding the proposed memorial to Colonel Greg Boyington, USMC and a Medal of Honor winner. I suspect you will receive many angry emails from conservative people like me. You may be too young to appreciate fully the sacrifices of generations of servicemen and servicewomen, on whose shoulders you and your fellow students stand. I forgive you for the untutored ways of youth and your naiveté. It may be that you are simply a sheep. There's no dishonor in being a sheep, as long as you know and accept what you are.

William J. Bennett, in a lecture to the United States Naval Academy November 24, 1997 said, "Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident. We may well be in the most violent times in history, but violence is still remarkably rare. This is because most citizens are kind, decent people, not capable of hurting each other except by accident or under extreme provocation. They are sheep.

Then there are the wolves who feed on the sheep without mercy. Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial.

Then there are sheepdogs and I'm a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf. If you have no capacity for violence and you are a healthy productive citizen, you are a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath, a wolf. But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? What do you have then? A sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the unchartered path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed.

We know that the sheep live in denial, that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe that there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kid's schools. But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting an armed police officer in their kid's school. Our children are thousands of times more likely to be killed or seriously injured by school violence than fire, but the sheep's only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their child is just too hard. So they choose the path of denial.

The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, cannot and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheepdog who intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours. Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn't tell them where to go, or give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports, in camouflage fatigues, holding an M-16. The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go Baa. That is, until the wolf shows up, and then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog.

The students, the victims, at Columbine High School were big, tough, know-it-all high school students, and under ordinary circumstances would not have had the time of day for a police officer. They were not bad kids; they just had nothing to say to a cop. When the school was under attack, however, and SWAT teams were clearing the rooms and hallways, the officers had to physically peel those clinging, sobbing kids off of them.

This is how the little lambs feel about their sheepdog when the wolf is at the door. Look at what happened after September 11, 2001 when the wolf pounded hard on the door. Remember how America, more than ever before, felt differently about their law enforcement officers and military personnel? Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be.

Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter. He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night and yearning for a righteous battle. That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed, right along with the young ones. Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day.

After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said "Thank God I wasn't on one of those planes." The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, "Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference." You want to be able to make a difference. There is nothing morally superior about the sheepdog, the warrior, but he does have one real advantage. Only one. And that is that he is able to survive and thrive in an environment that would destroy 98 percent of the population.

Research was conducted a few years ago with individuals convicted of violent crimes. These cons were in prison for serious, predatory crimes of violence: assaults, murders and killing law enforcement officers. The vast majority said they specifically targeted victims by body language: Slumped walk, passive behavior and lack of awareness. They chose their victims like big cats do in Africa, when they select one out of the herd that is least able to protect itself.

Some people may be destined to be sheep and others might be genetically primed to be wolves or sheepdogs. But I believe that most people can choose which one they want to be, and I'm proud to say that more and more Americans are choosing to become sheepdogs. Seven months after the attack on September 11, 2001, Todd Beamer was honored in his hometown of Cranbury, New Jersey. Todd, as you recall, was the man on Flight 93 over Pennsylvania who called on his cell phone to alert an operator from United Airlines about the hijacking. When they learned of the other three passenger planes that had been used as weapons, Todd and the other passengers confronted the terrorist hijackers. In one hour, a transformation occurred among the passengers - athletes, business people and parents - from sheep to sheepdogs and together they fought the wolves, ultimately saving an unknown number of lives on the ground.

Edmund Burke said "There is no safety for honest men except by believing all possible evil of evil men." Here is the point I want to emphasize, especially to the thousands of police officers and soldiers I speak to each year. In nature the sheep, real sheep, are born as sheep. Sheepdogs are born that way, and so are wolves. They don't have a choice. But you are not a critter. As a human being, you can be whatever you want to be. It is a conscious, moral decision. If you want to be a sheep, then you can be a sheep and that is okay, but you must understand the price you pay. When the wolf comes, you and your loved ones are going to die if there is not a sheepdog there to protect you.

If you want to be a wolf, you can be one, but the sheepdogs are going to hunt you down and you will never have rest, safety, trust or love. But if you want to be a sheepdog and walk the warrior's path, then you must make a conscious and moral decision every day to dedicate, equip and prepare yourself to thrive in that toxic, corrosive moment when the wolf comes knocking at the door.

This business of being a sheep or a sheepdog is not a yes-no dichotomy. It is not an all-or-nothing, either-or choice. It is a matter of degrees, a continuum. On one end is an abject, head-in-the-sand-sheep and on the other end is the ultimate warrior. Few people exist completely on one end or the other. Most of us live somewhere in between. Since 9-11 almost everyone in America took a step up that continuum, away from denial. The sheep took a few steps toward accepting and appreciating their warriors, and the warriors started taking their job more seriously.

Its OK to be a sheep, but do not kick the sheepdog. Indeed, the sheepdog may just run a little harder, strive to protect a little better and be fully prepared to pay an ultimate price in battle and spirit with the sheep moving from "baa" to "thanks."

We do not call for gifts or freedoms beyond our lot. Just like the sheepdog, we in the military just need a small pat on the head, a smile and a thank you to fill the emotional tank which is drained protecting the sheep.

And, when our number is called by The Almighty, and day retreats into night, a small prayer before the heavens just may be in order to say thanks for letting you continue to be a sheep. And be grateful for the millions of American sheepdogs who permit you the freedom to express even bad ideas.


Let me finish by first saying that I am sad and dissappointed that actions carried out at MY Alma Mater are what prompted this letter. I have great sorrow and disgust that their are Americans that cannot or will not respect and honor those that have given their lives in our defense. You may not AGREE with the Government and the issues behind this war, but we, the soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines do not make the policy - we just do our best to protect and defend, and obey the orders handed down by our elected officials. Our Government may not be perfect, but there's no other I'd rather serve.

I would also like to say that the above letter reminds me of how I felt as a kid. I was never a Sheep, cuz I KNEW there were bad things in this world. But, when my Father was around I felt safe - like nothing in the world could touch me - because I knew my Father would protect me. That he would do ANYTHING to protect his family, that he would lay down his life for us. He was my Sheepdog.

I have no intention of being a Martyr, of dying for "the cause," but I am here to protect the things I love: my Family, my Friends, my Country and our way of life, and I would proudly give my life in their defense.

So thanks, Dad, but it's my turn now.

Email From a friend:

If you read some of my earlier BLOGs and wondered why I have such distain for our media - just keep reading:

The following email was forwarded to me just the other day:

Just as we suspected--this confirms what many military had thought...

General Vo Nguyen Giap.

Giap's memoirs... (Gen. Giap was a very famous and knowledgeable General in the North Vietnamese Army.) General Giap has published his memoirs and confirmed what most Americans knew. The Vietnam war was not lost in Vietnam-- it was lost at home. The exact same slippery slope, sponsored by the Dems and the US media, is currently well underway. It exposes the enormous power of a biased media (the Dems could never do it alone) to cut out the heart and will of the American public.

General Giap was a brilliant, highly respected leader of the North Vietnam military. The following quote is from his memoirs currently found in theVietnam war memorial in Hanoi:

"What we still don't understand is why you Americans stopped the bombing of Hanoi. You had us on the ropes. If you had pressed us a little harder, just for another day or two, we were ready to surrender! It was the same at the battles of TET. You defeated us! We knew it, and we thought you knew it. But we were elated to notice your media was definitely helping us. They were causing more disruption in America than we could in the battlefields. We were ready to surrender. You had won!"

A truism worthy of note: Do not fear the enemy, for they can take only your life. Fear the media far more, for they will destroy your honour.

The NEW job...

Well, I've been putting this off now for several days. Mostly cuz I only have a partial understanding of what it is that I'm supposed to be doing here. Let me see if I can "push the garnish aside" and really get down to the Meat and Potatoes...

Quick background of the situation: There has been a pretty significant shift in focus from the ANA (Afghan National Army) to the ANP (Police) and the ANSF (Nat'l Security Force) which essentially is the two working in conjunction. I guess the theory being that initially we were working with the ANA to establish a National force for security, but now the Taliban and al Queda, as well as the druglords and other criminal elements, have been forced into smaller pockets throughout the country; thus, we have begun working more on a local level to locate/erradicate these groups.

For example, we recently had several of our teams involved in a raid. There were 7 targets of opportunity in this particular village. The teams were supposed to strike simultaneously, so three teams departed first, the ones that had to travel the furthest, then the next two, and the last two left about 15 minutes prior to "attack."

The teams consisted of 9 ANP, 1 CID, another 10 ANA for "back-up" or perimeter watch and a single truck of 3 or 4 US members and thier TERP. Then there was a 30 man QRF (quick reaction force) in reserve at the main base in case of escape or resistance.

Two of the target houses were unidentifiable, but there was one HVT (high value target) and 3 or 4 other suspects taken as a result of the raids. I have not seen the final report and/or the AAR (after action report) - sort of a "lessons learned" for everyone to talk about what went right, what went wrong, ways to improve, etc.

So, that being said, MY new job is that of the Battle Captain for the RPAC (Regional Police Assistance Command). Sounds a HELL of a lot more sexy than it really is... Really I'm more of a REMF (Rear eschelon Mother F... I think you can figure the rest out...) that handles distribution of assignments, collects/consolidates/proofs and forwards reports to "higher."

We have about 15 or 16 PMTs (Police Mentor Teams) which cover 8 provinces. Most provinces have a Provincial Team and a District Team, although two provinces don't have DT, and one province has an additional DT because of it's geographic size. Confused? Me too. The Provincial Teams work with the Province Head Quarters that handle much of the administrative responsibilities, while the District Teams work at a distict level and focus primarily on actual law enforcement.

The teams work directly with the local Police stations or Head Quarters (HQs) to mentor them in all facets from Pay/Finance, Logistics, Personnel, Training, and Recruiting - to name a few. Now let me just talk about Personnel for a minute (or twelve...); Recently the MOI (Minister of Interior) put out a directive which describes the acceptable manpower for each location. For example, one of the Provincial Head Quarters is supposed to have 198 officers. Anyone wanna take a guess how many they reported on the books???

Well according to our original head count, they claimed 803... Yup, there were almost 600 additional officers on their books. Then there were locations that were REPORTING that they had 40 or 50 people, but when we did a head count they could only produce 35. Not such a big deal until you consider that they were receiving PAYROLL for 40-50... Amazingly enough, there was never money left over?!?! Have I mentioned that graft and corruption run rampant throughout Afghanistan???

Anyway, our teams are trying to "assist" the local offices to get an accurate head count, restructure as necessary to meet the MOI manpower document, audit payroll and financial schedules, etc. This is a current focus and we are heavily involved in Rank and Financial reform.

Part of my job is to take weekly updates from the teams on the progress their stations are making and consolidate the reports into a format or presentation to be passed up the chain. Unfortunately, this is still a work in progress. I also take orders/directives from the Commander of the RPAC and disseminate them out to the teams on a weekly basis.

Are you enjoying all the acronyms as much as I am?? In case you haven't noticed, the Army likes to make every possible title or group of words into an acronym. I thought the Navy had a lot of acronyms, but the Army has taken this to a new level.

Here's a brief sample:
ACF -> Anti-Coalition Forces
TIC -> Troops In Contact
POC -> Point Of Contact
CAS -> Close Air Support
IAW -> In Accordance With
IOT -> In Order To
ABP -> Afghan Border Police
APB -> Armor Piercing Bullet
NLT -> No Later Than
POO -> Point Of Origin
POI -> Point Of Interest
TOI -> Target of Interest

I don't even think I've scratched the surface here, but you'll have to commit these to memory, as I will be usuing them from now on in all of my future BLOGs. I guess I haven't done a very good job explaining my new position, but... I guess I haven't exactly "got my arms around it" just yet. I recently put out a FRAGO which I think means "fragmented order" which is a change or update to a previous OPORD (operational order). I'm supposed to send out a FRAGO weekly to update the teams on what exactly it is that they are supposed to be doing within the scope of the original OPORD which was put out. OPORDs are only put out occassionally when there is a significant shift in the mission.

Most of you will be happy to know that my new job, much like the last one, keeps me "inside the wire," stuck on a base, sitting at a desk, staring at a computer. The only Purple Heart I'm likely to receive is for stabbing my eyes out with a pencil after staring at spreadsheets for 10 hours a day, 7 days a week. But, rest assured, they've locked up all the pencils in the office... Guns and ammo everywhere, but try to get your hands on a pencil - you're out of luck, mister.

That's all for now.

MickMurphy, OUT.

Another email... This one is much better

A Different Christmas Poem

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was Asleep, with her head on my chest,
my daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard into a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn’t loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,
Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.

My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door, just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold, and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled there in the cold.
A lone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it’s freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts...
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night.

It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here, like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram will always remember.
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.

I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile."
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
“I can live through the cold and the being alone,
away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.

I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother...
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright.
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn’t there something I can do, at the least,
Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?

It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as much as you mattered to us."

Interesting email I rec'd this morning...

I just got the following email, and rather than forward it to everyone I just thought I would post it on here for consideration... My world (surroundings) and my role here are not nearly this extreme, but many of our forces do have to endure conditions such as these. Please remember them in your thoughts and prayers during the holidays.



You stay up for 16 hours>
He stays up for days on end.>

You take a warm shower to help you wake up.>
He goes days or weeks without running water.>

You complain of a 'headache', and call in sick.>
He gets shot at as others are hit, and keeps moving forward.>

You put on your anti war/don't support the troops shirt, and go meet up with your friends.>
He still fights for your right to wear that shirt.>

You make sure you're cell phone is in your pocket.
He clutches the cross hanging on his chain next to his dog tags.>

You talk trash about your 'buddies' that aren't with you.>
He knows he may not see some of his buddies again.>

You walk down the beach, staring at all the pretty girls.>
He patrols the streets, searching for insurgents and terrorists.>

You complain about how hot it is.>
He wears his heavy gear, not daring to take off his helmet to wipe his brow.>

You go out to lunch, and complain because the restaurant got your order wrong.>
He doesn't get to eat today.>

Your maid makes your bed and washes your clothes.>
He wears the same things for weeks, but makes sure his weapons are clean.>

You go to the mall and get your hair redone.>
He doesn't have time to brush his teeth today.>

You're angry because your class ran 5 minutes over.>
He's told he will be held over an extra 2 months.>

You call your girlfriend and set a date for tonight.>
He waits for the mail to see if there is a letter from home.>

You hug and kiss your girlfriend, like you do everyday.>
He holds his letter close and smells his love's perfume.>

You roll your eyes as a baby cries.>
He gets a letter with pictures of his new child, and wonders if they'll ever meet.>

You criticize your government, and say that war never solves anything.>
He sees the innocent tortured and killed by their own people and remembers why he is fighting. >

You hear the jokes about the war, and make fun of men like him. >
He hears the gunfire, bombs and screams of the wounded.>

You see only what the media wants you to see.> (my greatest complaint...)
He sees the broken bodies lying around him.>

You are asked to go to the store by your parents. You don't.>
He does exactly what he is told even if it puts his life in danger.>

You stay at home and watch TV.>
He takes whatever time he is given to call, write home, sleep, and eat.>

You crawl into your soft bed, with down pillows, and get comfortable.>
He tries to sleep but gets woken by mortars and helicopters all night long.>

If you support your troops, send this to 7 people.>
If you don't support your troops well, then don't send this out. > You won't die in 7 days, your love life won't be affected , and you won't have the worst day ever. You don't have to email this. It's not like you know the men and women that are dying to preserve your rights. >


Mind you, I didn't write this. I'm not trying to "imply" or complain that people back home aren't supporting us or mindful of the sacrifices, but the fact that this email is circulating out here lends me to believe that there are those of us over here that feel otherwise...

New Address

I've recently moved to a new base. Don't worry, if you've sent something my way, I should still get it. However my new address is:

Michael Murphy
RPAC - N/Echo base
Mazar - e - Sharif
APO AE 09354

I have also rec'd multiple emails from family members informing me that the post office said that the zip code was "invalid." To the best of my knowledge, there is nothing wrong, invalid, or incorrect with this zip code. My only guess is that the "system" doesn't recognize the new zip codes for Iraq or Afghan destinations... You would think that after being over here for six years the US Post Office would "get it." I've been here over six months, and this is the first time that I've heard of any issues, so I'm also thinking that maybe there was a change-over in software or the computer systems so that the zip is not "recognized" when they enter it into the system... Just a guess, of course.

Rest assured, there is still plenty of time to get your packages in the mail... wink, wink. Hope you are all doing well and having a safe and happy holidays.

Michael

Is anybody reading this???

Okay, not one person wrote to me and asked me to forward the "Iraqi Challenge." I must say, that I still watch this a couple of times a day. Yes, it really is THAT funny. There is a line of about 12 or 15 Iraqi soldiers attempting to do jumping jacks for the first time. Only about three of them actually get the hang of it. The rest of them, well... you just have to see it for yourself!!

More to follow...

I guess I should explain: The internet connection I was using did not allow me to view the "Iraqi Challenge," so I tried a second time to post it - thus, there are two BLOGs with that video and my offer to email to anyone that wanted to see it. I wondered, since no one had written to request it, if anyone was still reading this... But I guess from the meager few comments and recent emails that there are still a handful of trusted readers out there, and for you it is my pleasure to press onward in my quest for humor, sarcasm, wit and all things obnoxiously common...

With love and moderate flatulence,
Michael

I don't even know where to begin...

Sorry folks, but I am at a loss for words this AM. (Ha ha ha... I know that's hard to believe!) But let me explain... Last night I wrote (what I considered to be) a very interesting and humorous description of the 8 hour convoy I'd just gone on. As this was my first Operational Mission and part of my new job I thought that it would be interesting to write about.



Then as I'd attempte to save it, so that I could go back in and add a few photos prior to posting it, something went wrong and I lost the entire BLOG posting. Even now, I'm just not quite capable of attempting that one again. I think I'd invested, at a minimum, an hour describing the whole event.



I will say this... We got lost - kind of... I guess not so much lost as the route that we wanted to take became "unnavigable." So our detour added about 2 1/2 hours to an already rather long trip.



I got to see a lot of the countryside, ate a lot of dust, bounced around the back of a HUMVEE for several hours and still have all my teeth, (I was afraid some of them would be rattled from my head during some SEVERE offroading) although I'm still trying to get the sand and grit out of them. I might be a tad bit shorter when you see me, as I'm pretty sure that my spine has been compressed, as well.



Suffice it to say, it was not quite as fun as I'd hoped, we didn't get to shoot or detain any bad guys, I was nearly comatose after 8+ hours in the back of a HUMVEE being jostled around in a VERY cramped place. I may attempt a re-write of the original BLOG, but no promises.

Have a great day!

Iraqi Challenge

Let me try this one more time... Sorry folks, but if this doesn't work I will just have to email it out to anyone that wants a good laugh. But you'll have to write me and ask for it...

Iraqi Challenge

Okay, I really hope you can view this. This is a video of Iraqi soldiers trying to do jumping jacks for the first time. I think its hysterical and I am pretty sure that I laugh harder everytime I view it. You be the judge...

Great picture...even better caption!

'Dear Lord: Thank you for bringing me to Timmy's house and not to Michael Vick's -- AMEN!'

Back in "the Stan"

First let me apologize for my long absence from writing, but I recently took my R&R leave back to the states. I won't go into great detail, but let me say that I had a wonderful trip, met my beautiful niece Cecile (4 mos old), got to spend some time in the cockpit of my chariot, the mighty MH-60S, attended the wedding of my good friend Haji Sharif and met some wonderful people along the way.

I traveled from West to East and North to South, arriving first in my hometown of Seattle where I visited with family and friends. For those of you I missed, my sincere apologies - and I promise to make it up to you upon my return. After ten days in Seattle I flew to Virginia and checked into my squadron for a few days in order to get some much needed (and sorely missed) flight time. From there I went to Tampa, FL where I attended Haji and Sabrina's wedding.

My return to "the Stan" took me from Dallas to Kuwait where I spent Thanksgiving. Let me first say that what I'm about to tell you is not for pity sake, but for humor and entertainment purposes only.... That said, I have to share with everyone that my Thanksgiving dinner consisted of a McDonald's "McRoyal" value meal. Yes folks, that's right... I had a Mickey D's Burger for Thanksgiving. Mind you, this was by choice, as they did serve a Thanksgiving dinner in the DFAC (dining facility) there at Camp Ali al Saleem in Kuwait. However, they served the same meal at lunch and after one helping of processed (and extremely dry and tasteless turkey) I opted for the slider... Now, the McRoyal should not be confused with the infamous "Royale with Cheese" of "Pulp Fiction" fame, but it was, as Jules (Samuel L. Jackson) said in the film, "a tasty burger." Of course, in the movie he was referring to the Big Kahuna Burger, not a Royale w/ Cheese... Am I moving too fast for you folks? Please try to keep up.

Since my circadian rhythm was completely shot (not to mention the mattresses which seemed to be chiseled from concrete), I was unable to sleep at all the first night. I fought thru my exhaustion the entire second day and managed about four solid hours of sleep the second night. I spent the majority of my time in the MWR (morale, welfare and recreation) tent watching movies, episodes of the second season of 24 and reading.

From Kuwait we flew into Bagram where I encountered much of the same hostility... I mean hospitality... complete with dried out turkey and brick like mattresses. At least the F-15s and EA-6B Prowlers waited until 0500 to take off. In case you aren't following, F-15s and EA-6Bs are two of the loudest freaking jets in the US inventory and litterally shake the ground for a 1/4 mile in every direction when they take off. I was roughly (i.e. just shy of) 1/4 mile from the approach end of the runway - that's where they take off from....

At both bases I was rather shaken (physically and psychologically) by multiple very loud, and seemingly quite close, concussions. I never did find out the cause. The lackadaisical reaction led me to believe that it was US or Coalition forces detonating UXOs (unexploded ordinance), or that it was in fact enemy activity - just quite commonplace in the daily ongoings around the camps... Suffice it to say, that is not the case where I currenly reside.

Upon my return I have learned that a new job awaits me. I will no longer be saddled with the thankless and daunting task of being the "glorified travel agent" for the Northern Region, with which I was previously employed. I will soon be taking over the position of the Liaison Officer (LNO) / Operations Officer (OpsO) for the Police Mentor Teams (PMTs) - ultimately to become the "Battle Captain" for the teams. I have to be quite honest in admitting that I am not quite certain what any of that means at this time. More than likely it means attending boring meetings and generating useless reports, but one can only hope... At any rate, I don't expect it will put me in the line of fire from the evil and sinister Taliban.

About the pictures: It seems that I missed some very interesting things while I was gone. The Embedded Training Teams, which work directly with the Afghan National Army (ANA) participated in a joint exercise with German, Swedish, Norwegian and Afghan forces and launched an offensive to the West. We killed or captured five high value targets and took another 19 or 20 detainees. There was also an extensive sand storm here, which limited visibility to about ten meters for most of the day.

The guy here on the left, I believe is Swede Spec Ops, has been shot three times, and was a primary factor in the recent offensive.

Quick Joke...

I can't actually take credit for this joke... My good friend Bill Burke told this joke a few times, but I can't help laugh everytime I hear it!

An Air Force Colonel dies and when he gets to the Pearly Gates, St Peter is there waiting to meet him. He says, "Welcome, Colonel. You've led and exemplary life, almost exclusively free from sin, you've been a faithful husband, a good father, attended Church almost every single week of your adult life, and served your country proudly for 30 years. The path of enlightenment is before you, if you would just follow me..."

"Hang on a sec there, St Peter. I've got an important question... You got any Naval Aviators in there? Cuz if you do, I'll be damned if I follow you in there."

"Are you telling me that you would really be willing to face eternal damnation just because of a few Naval Aviators?"

"You better believe it... I just can't stand ‘em. Can't stand to be around those cocky son's a bitches... uhh s'cuse my French, Saint Peter. To me, being in their presence, and knowing that they'd made it to heaven, would be worse than the eternal flames of hell."

"Well, I think that's a bit extreme, but I guess I can see your point... " St Peter chuckled. I do understand, somewhat. Alas, my boy, rest assured, there are no Naval Aviators here."


So St Peter leads this man along beautiful lanes of large comfortable homes and boasts that the COL, because he'd lived such a clean, pure life, would be granted one of the homes along the golf course, with its own pool. He would be joined eventually by his soul mate, and would have joy and bliss all the rest of his days.


So several weeks later, the Colonel is at the 19th hole, just having played a perfect round (72) of golf, with his gorgeous soul mate caddying quietly (it's heaven, okay - we know this doesn't really happen...) when the doors to the bar blast open and in marches this Naval Aviator.

He's loud and obnoxious and has both arms wrapped adoringly around what appears to be Maureen O'Hare and Betty Grable, a large glass of Single Malt Scotch in one hand and a long smelly Cuban in the other. He's so obnoxious that he's actually wearing a flight suit and his leather flight jacket adorned with a fur lined collar and patches galore, Aviator shades hung just low enough he could peer over the top. The foursome takes their seats in the corner as he loudly describes HIS 18 under round of golf, as the crowd gathers. Then he begins telling tall tales and rauchy jokes...

The Colonel rushes from the bar and hunts down St Peter, dragging him handily back to the clubhouse fuming and stammering along the way. As they push thru the bar doors he stammers and gasps, "Y-y-y-y-OU SWORE tt-t-t-to me that there w-w-w-w-would be NO N-N-N-n-n-naval.... Naval...." unable to finish the sentence and red with fury.

St. Peter put his hand on the Colonel's shoulder and sighed, "That's not a Naval Aviator, my son.... That's GOD.... He just WISHES HE WAS ONE!!!"

Honoring a fallen hero

(Taken from the LA Times)


Navy SEAL to receive Medal of Honor;



Navy Lt. Michael P. Murphy died in June 2005. He is the first SEAL to receive the honor since the Vietnam War.





Lt. Michael P. Murphy, the first to be awarded the highest military award for combat in Afghanistan, was killed during a 2005 mission.

CORONADO — A Navy SEAL killed in Afghanistan will be awarded the Medal of Honor, the first such award for troops serving in Afghanistan and the first for a SEAL since the Vietnam War, the White House announced Thursday. Lt. Michael P. Murphy, 29, who had SEAL training here and was assigned to a SEAL team in Hawaii, was killed in June 2005 during a mission in the Hindu Kush mountains to find a key Taliban leader.



FOR THE RECORD:


Medal of Honor: An article in Friday's Section A about the posthumous awarding of the Medal of Honor to a Navy SEAL who served in Afghanistan said Lt. Michael P. Murphy was commissioned a Navy ensign in 1999. That commission to the Officer Candidate School came in 2000.



Ambushed by insurgents, Murphy's four-man SEAL team engaged in a fierce firefight and was in danger of being overrun. Although he was wounded, Murphy risked his life to save fellow SEALs and then maneuvered into an open position to send out an emergency call and to continue firing at the enemy. While making the call, he was hit again. Only one of the SEALs on the team survived. Eight other SEALs and eight soldiers aboard a MH-47 Chinook helicopter sent to rescue Murphy's team also were killed when the craft was brought down by a rocket-propelled grenade. The incident was the worst single-day loss of life for Navy Special Warfare personnel since World War II.





"Mike Murphy was a true warrior, a true leader. No one cared more about his men than he did," said a SEAL officer who asked to be identified only as Sean. Because their missions are secret, SEALs prefer to remain anonymous. President Bush will present the Medal of Honor to Murphy's parents on Oct. 22 at the White House.





Only two other military personnel -- Marine Cpl. Jason Dunham and Army Sgt. 1st Class Paul Ray Smith -- have been awarded the nation's highest honor for bravery for actions undertaken since Bush sent troops into Afghanistan in 2001. Both of those awards were for bravery in Iraq and were posthumous. The three other members of Murphy's team -- Matthew Axelson, 25, and Danny Dietz, 31, who were both killed, and Marcus Luttrell, 32 -- have each been awarded the Navy Cross, second only to the Medal of Honor. Luttrell is the author of "Lone Survivor: The Eyewitness Account of Operation Redwing and the Lost Heroes of SEAL Team 10."





Murphy grew up on Long Island and graduated from Pennsylvania State University in 1998 with degrees in political science and psychology. He was commissioned a Navy ensign in 1999 and graduated from SEAL training in Coronado in 2001. His father, Daniel, an attorney and a combat veteran of the Vietnam War, said the assignment to Afghanistan was particularly important to his son. Murphy had friends in the New York police and fire departments and wore an NYFD patch on his uniform. "He told me, 'We're going where the people who planned, plotted and recruited for 9/11 are,' " Daniel Murphy said.





Murphy's mother, Maureen, said the Medal of Honor meant that "now the world will know what his family has always known: how special he was." At the SEAL base in Coronado, Murphy and his teammates were the subject of numerous conversations as word of the White House announcement circulated. Though SEALs' grief lingers, they preferred to praise Murphy's steely determination and leadership.





"I'll remember him and those other guys every day of my life," said Cory, a SEAL petty officer first class.

I apologize...

Well, it's been almost a month since I've written, and for that I am sincerely apologetic to each and every single one of my faithful readers. The truth, as sad as it may be, is that there JUST HASN'T BEEN ANYTHING worth writing about...

So, I decided to take a different approach. I am going to write about family and friends from this point forward, and will be sure to fill you in should there be anything fun, funny, interesting, entertaining, should the common-man rear his ugly (and/or grotesquely stupid) head I will be sure to let you know. Oh, speaking of that, there was one story that I never mentioned...

THE COMMON-MAN CLEARS HIS WEAPON:
I'll try to explain w/o getting into too much detail, but such that those unfamiliar with weapons will hopefully be able to follow... Since training began, we have been required to "clear" our weapons at specific points/locations/etc. For example, we constantly had to clear our weapons back in Kansas, even though we had not even laid our eyes on ammunition, let alone fed rounds through our barrels... We did this every single time we entered the DFAC (Dining Facility), as we left the FOB (Forward Operating Base), prior to entering class rooms, Burger King, Exchange (kinda like K-Mart - a little bit of everything, most of it crap...), and so on and so forth.

Needless to say, the effect works, and although this becomes an exceedingly teadious task, the importance exists for COMMON reasons. Here, we really only have to clear our weapons when returning to the FOB after a mission/convoy. On the FOB our weapons are kept in a GREEN status, which means we carry them everywhere, but the magazines are OUT, no rounds are in the weapon, and the weapon is kept on SAFE - this means that one cannot squeeze the trigger; it has been mechanically BLOCKED. For obvious reasons, this is the safest MODE our weapons can be in. AMBER indicates that the magazine is loaded, but NO round in chambered, and again, the weapon is kept on SAFE. This is a MEDIUM state of weapon status, as it only requires a round to be chambered, the gun to be let off safe and a trigger pull can be performed in less than five seconds. One or two seconds if you're good. Yes, I'm pretty good in case you're worried or just wondering...

RED is a condition that we often travel in as soon as we depart the base. This means that the magazine is in, a round IS chambered and the weapon is on safe. To fire all it requires is a quick flip of a switch and a trigger pull. For many, this does not require any additional time, as the safety is moved to the off position as the weapon is brought up and into the firing position. We typically will only be in a RED status in dangerous areas, and have recently downgraded to Amber for personnel in a convoy except for the gunners which stand up in the turret and man our large caliber weapons. I think this is primarily because they would be the first to engage, this lessens the possibility for an accidental discharge of a weapon - this happened recently down South where a guy shot himself in the thigh while trying to get out of a vehicle.

Mind you, getting in and out of these HUMVEEs is not an easy task, especially when wearing all the gear that we are required to wear. Oh, I'll post that again, cuz the picture I had on my profile doesn't show up anymore now that I've gone to the Guinness background. I think the background is worthy, so I'll have to figure out some other way to show off my cool "air-strip security pose" photograph.

Back to my story: Okay, so one day as a Convoy arrives at the airport, about an hour away from here, everyone dismounts their vehicles and walks to the clearing barrels. Now a clearing barrel is a large metal barrel about two feet in diameter, usually filled halfway with sand, sand-bags, dirt, what have you. it is tilted at an angle to allow us to walk up to the barrel, point our weapon INTO the barrel, while we conduct our "clearing." This process is really quite simple: 1) check weapon on safe. 2) remove magazine. 3) clear chamber - because a live round was in the chamber, it will be ejected and fall on the ground during this stage. 4) take weapon off safe. 5) while pointing weapon into clearing barrel, squeeze trigger. Now because we have emptied the weapon, we know that the weapon will not fire. It is just a step to ensure that the weapon is in fact empty... Step 6) return weapon to SAFE. We perform this drill for both of our weapons, the M-9, 9mm Baretta Pistol, and the M-4 Carbine Rifle.

Well, on this particular afternoon a Common-Man stepped up to the clearing barrel with his pistol, checked to make sure his weapon was on safe, pulled the slide backward and watched the round eject onto the ground, took the weapon off safe, pointed into the clearing barrel and pulled the trigger.... BANG!!! Holy $H*T his gun went off and was even louder because of the echoing effect of having been pointed into a barrel that acted as a megaphone... He looked quizzically at the weapon thinking, "I know I cleared the weapon, I saw the round eject... That's odd, but it must be empty now, so..." and pointed into the clearing barrel a second time and pulled the - BANG!!! "SonofaB*T(H! What the hell!?!? How in the Fu" - "HEY!!!" his train of common-thought is broken by Sauce, a friend of mine who is just uncommon (and witty enough) to saunter over to idiot boy and say, "YOU might wanna remove that magazine, or we're in for a long afternoon..."

Needless to say, this particular individual was relieved of his weapons for awhile. There have been other instances of ND/AD (negligent discharge/accidental discharge - I find it strange that the Army distinguishes a difference between these, an accidental discharge somehow being less severe than a negligent discharge), but FAR FAR FAR FAR fewer here in the North than in other theaters of operation. I am really and truly baffled and amazed at how someone could be so stupid to pull the trigger on their weapon with a round in the chamber. That is the whole purpose of pulling back the handle/slide and checking the chamber. I'll be completely honest, I - in my LIMITED exposure to carbine rifles - did something similar where I forgot to pull the magazine on my M-4, pulled the charging handle and watched the round eject, but as the slide came forward I saw it strip another round from the magazine and push it forward into the chamber... "Hmmm," I thought, "that's not supposed to be in there... Oh yeah, I'm supposed to pull the mag, damnit!" and I felt pretty dumb for doing that.... This guy not only fired one round, but TWO into a clearing barrel.

I'm surrounded by Common Men, in a Common War, in a Common Country...

My disguise

The common man is also a barber - did you know that? So the other day I decided that my hair was entirely too long. I think in part because Major McIlhaney ("Mack") said "the 70's called and they wanted their hairdo back..." By the way, Mack was a Navy Pilot, but got out and recently joined the Nat'l Guard, so he's relatively okay. He doesn't QUITE fit into the common man category, and since he arrived here as a Captain and just recently put on O-4 he hasn't turned into a total pain in the ass just yet. His operation is not scheduled for a few more weeks. Operation you ask?? Yeah, they have to go in and remove most of his brain and pull his entire spine out. I hear it's quite painful. That's why they all have funny haircuts - didn't you know that? The hair won't grow below the scar...
By the way, taking pictures of your head is a lot harder than it looks...



The scar is where they had to unscrew the top of the head in order to remove the brain and spinal column. Then they take out the "automatic response" portion of the brain, pre-program it with "yes, sir! that's a great idea!" the "yes, sir! that great idea was mine!" (even though it wasn't), and of course, the "No sir, my subordinate must have screwed that up..." responses. They take that one or two ounces of pre-programmed brain matter, toss it back in, screw the lid back on and their ya have it. The common soldier.



Some people say this is my "best side," but I'm not quite sure what they mean by that...? Maybe it's cuz I actually have a decent shaped brain-bucket w/o a lot of scars all over it. Probably, tho - it's cuz they'd much rather see me going than coming... ya think?





The Marines have a similar procedure, but they only keep about 1/3 of an ounce and it is only pre-programmed with "YES, SIR!!" and "NO, SIR!!" - I never figured out what the requirement for the maximum volume of these responses, maybe the hearing gets removed in the other 2/3 oz that the Army allows...?




This is Ryan, he's the Chair Force guy I work with (I can say that, cuz he really is "Chair Force.") His job is to sit around in the bottom of a silo reading porn and studying for his masters. This is what the Air Farce pays their people to do... Tragic, I tell ya...





This is his lobotomy scar. The one I mentioned in my last BLOG, so I thought I would show everyone what one looks like...


So, this common barber that I went to was not quite sure how to cut the hair of someone who's hair actually grows below the scar (ridgeline of the scalp) since he'd never had to do so before. So when I said "please cut it STRAIGHT up the sides, taper it in at the top and just take about a 1/4 inch off the top" what he heard was the standard, "shave my head, numbnutz!! Just take them clippers there, make a ring around my head - where that scar is, there - and shave it! Shave it all!" so he said, "Yes, Sir! That's a great idea!" And this is what happened...



But here's the positive side: See, over here I have to constantly find "the positive side" to things... Like working 16 hour days seven days a week - what's the positive side you ask? Well, the time sure goes by quicker... And I never have to think to myself, "Gee Self, what should you do with this 15 minutes of free time you have?" Cuz I just don't have to make those really TOUGH decisions anymore... So, back to the positive side of the "common haircut" - I have realized what a phenominal disguise this is. I can actually walk among them - the common men that live and work within this camp - undisturbed and unnoticed. I've been amazed at the conversations that I've heard, now that I can roam freely with them.


"Uh, yes sir! That's a great idea..." and "hey, that idea was mine, sir" it's simply amazing what you can learn when they are actually acting on their own, in their true environment. There is also a lot of grunting, ball scratching and nose picking. This must be how Jane Goodall felt. Simply amazing. See, there really is a positive side to everything.



And now that I have the "common haircut" I don't think my bosses really expect much from me, and are not surprised or disappointed, much less distracted, when I come charging into the office clad in nothing more than tighty whities and brandishing one green and one orange squirt gun in each hand, with my "back-up" secretly tucked down the back of my waistband, by the way, that one is purple.... Now just so none of you are totally alarmed by the thought of this, I haven't exactly done it yet, although the consideration does exist - and I promise to send pictures... I'm just saying that I don't think it would quite be enough for them to consider sending me home for psychological reasons - and even if it were - that's right, you're catching on... There's a positive side to everything.


















By the way, this is where I work: BURKA AIR... Our motto is "Your guess is as good as ours!!" And this is the "Number Puller" for those waiting in line... Yes, that's an actual grenade.

Toodles,

MickMurphy

Happy Birthday...to me!!

So it is on the eve of my 29th birthday (again) that I write this entry. Yes, can you believe it, I'm turning 29 again. I certainly don't feel that old, but I guess there is just something about being around Army folks that makes me feel juvenile and sometimes, dare I say, infantile... I've includede some pictures to show just how juvenile we can be!

Yes, that is a Pirate bandana I'm wearing...

One of the Air Farce guys, Ryan, that works with me had a cyst on the side of his melon. The DOC here cut it open to remove it, but it left a 1 inch cut w/ maybe four or five stiches. He and I joked that it was the lobotomy he was required to have in order to work w/ the Army. We seem to think it quite hilarious, but for some reasone I don't think our Army superiors find it quite as humorous... Can't imagine why not?

This is Ehren - He's gone now, but he sure enjoyed that BLUE lolli-pop!!

I anxiously await the beginning of the Husky football game, which will actually be televised. I honestly believe that the DAWGS have a chance at this one, considering that they are a much better team than anyone expected, AND they are playing at home before what I am sure to be a capacity crowd. But let's not get side tracked here, let's talk about me some more...


I will be turning 29 again, tomorrow, and I hope that you will all consider me for a moment during your day. If you're out and about watching football, working in the yard, slaving over a hot stove - just please take a few seconds, minutes, even an hour or two, hell, the whole day for that matter, and dedicate some thoughts to yours truly. Believe me, you will be better for it.


I haven't received all of my presents yet, but I'm sure that they are just delayed in the mail system. I do appreciate all of you sending me stuff. That was very kind. When I'm rich and famous - after I write and sell my book about the NArmy - I will invite you to all of my parties...


All joking aside, I can honestly say that I am not exactly where I had hoped, expected, dreamed or much less wanted to be at this point in my life. Never, not once, did I ever think to myself, "Self, I sure would like to have an all expense paid trip to Afghanistan, where every single day is exactly the same, where I don't get a single minute of flight time, not a drop of Irish Nectar - okay, maybe a few drops - but that I am so busy that I often don't have time to workout, read a book or God forbid, post an entry in my BLOG.


I'll admit, I'm feeling a bit depressed, now that I think about it, and can only hope I can hold off a complete "spill" into the abyss until November when I get to take two weeks of leave. I hope that the improvements I have made in the Air Travel system will ease the workload and improve (limit) my day to day stress, allow more time in the gym, for reading and/or for general mayhem. I recently received some squirt guns from my squadron, so I hope to put them to good use... Did I mention being here sometimes (often) leads to juvenile behavior? Maybe it's all the sugar...

For example, this is about 2 million in Afghani funds, which equals about $8.37 US. Okay, actually it is more like $45k. This was a birthday gift from an Afghan Warlord - no it wasn't. My God, you'll believe anything... Oh, note to self: Self - the tough guy look makes you look more like Jay Leno than Tony Soprano... No more "tough guy face" - Check? Check! Now put that money back in the safe...

The fact that football season has finally arrived gives me something to look forward to, and as I think a few months into the future and the last football game being played - I will have but a month or so left in this Godforsaken land. Thank God for pigskin!

That's a picture of a few guys tossing the pigskin at dusk - just in case you can't quite see it!!

The time here has not really been that bad, for the most part it really and truly is "AFGHANtastic!" There is plenty here to make me laugh - usually something from the "common man" or funny and strange tales that we share while sitting around in the dining hall. I really need to take a few more pictures to share, and I'm not sure if it will work but I will try to post some video here that people can watch. Please let me know if you're able to download and view...


Hopefully this works - it's a C-130 taking off and then it completely engulfs me in dust & sand... I've titled it: Sand Blast!!


Nope that didn't work... I hope you enjoyed it, anyway. It was really cool. You are very welcome!! Don't mention it... Okay, if you really want to see it, email me and I will send it to you. This BLOG page won't seem to accept my Sand Blast! video... I will continue to try to improve my computer illiteracy that maybe someday I will actually be able to accomplish such simple tasks as adding video to my blog. Maybe I'll be able to figure out how to do this by my 29th birthday next year... Prob'ly not.


Well, I'm off to call my parents in Hawaii so they can wish me Happy Birthday - somehow that seems so backwards... Having to call people so that they can wish me happy birthday. Oh well, I'm desperate for love and attention, so I'll just assume that you are all thinking about me for the next 24 hours, rushing around buying me gifts, etc. But please, nothing too extravagant - please limit yourselves to $100, okay, $200 is fine - when making those purchases. Really, it means a lot to me. Thank you, in advance for all your love and attention tomorrow. And don't forget, prayers are free!!


If my camera worked, I would post a picture here of me charging off to hunt rascals w/ my four remaining squirt guns, but the batteries are dead, so you'll just have to imagine it. And, here's a goofy picture of a guy on a mule instead...
Here's another one...