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Saturday, January 01, 2022

Ahoy

[This is an interesting snapshot of where my life was when I wrote this post.]

This will be my last post here as I transition to a different blog and a new stage of life.

https://tristanwruark.com/

The last post I made here was in 2014. I made some posts prior to that then I went back in and pulled them from the blog. I started this blog back in 2005. It's now 2022. Wow, have things changed. Who am I? A lot has changed in the last eight years. A lot of life has passed through the Angry American. I'm a completely different person between the Angry American and the man I am now. I don't think I was so angry when I first started the blog over fifteen years ago. Wow. A decade and a half. I'm thinking how crazy it would have been for me to start a blog back in 1990. 1990 was the ending of 7th grade and the beginning of eighth grade for me. I would have been 13 years old. Thirty-two, 32 years ago, I would've been able to keep my own blog because I would've been 13 years old. What is the comparison?

Here's a tik tokker who is 13 at the time of this post

https://www.tiktok.com/@stayflyooo/video/7046536814118653231?is_copy_url=1&is_from_webapp=v1

This young lady has a YouTube channel at 13

https://youtu.be/tiNqhOds9l8

In comparison, I didn't have social media until I was 28 years old in 2005. This blog was my first social media. I started it because I was in Iraq, and my buddy had a blog. I didn't even know what a blog was. I just wanted a spot to share my experiences in Iraq with my family. The blog ended up taking a form of its own during my deployment in 2007. I quickly learned that people only give a shit about you when your life is in danger.

So why am I coming back in 2022? Because I haven't really seen anything through in a year for a while.

[I didn't see this through either.]

Many reasons really. I'm enthralled with the ability to be able to keep a diary through the years in almost real-time. Imagine if Anne Frank had a vlog or blog. Anne Frank would be the most recent time I could think of; I imagine the ancient humans being able to show us pictures of the time they lived in. What a perspective we would have for the times that history has forgot.

Anyway, I'm back. For how long, I don't really know. This is more of a New Years' challenge than anything. Obviously, we need to cover ground, and I'll do whatever, however, until I get some reader feedback unless no one is reading this. You let me know what you want to know about.

A lot of time has passed, and we have lost a lot of people on this journey. In a separate post/post, I will name the people because they are special to me. I think that people should know their history and learn from their mistakes and honor their legacy. For now, I'm late on this post. We have more to come. It's a history of my life. I'm hopeful that it will reflect the years I lived for the person I chose to be during my short stint here in life.

I'm not the best version of me through a lot of this life. Shit though. I had a fucking blast, literally. It has been a huge learning curve and also a blessing. I have lived through some shit but nothing in comparison to others. I would be remised if I didn't admit that it has been a wild ride. My favorite quote in this life isa quote from Hunter S. Thompson: Buy the ticket, take the ride.

It means what it means. Life is a ride. Participate.

Anyway, I'm back. I want to tell my story. It's been tame yet crazy to me. I'm a lucky fucker. I want to thank the beautiful people who have crossed my path to make my adventure so amazing.

Sunday, September 07, 2014

Brothers means that I will always come for you. No Matter what the cost.

September is the month that is synonymous with the end of summer, the beginning of school, and the transition into fall. For others as August draws near September looms over them like thick Iraqi moon dust stirred up by a couple hundred pounds of hidden explosives. September is a time where grizzled veterans drink a little bit more with those that can't be with us. To the untrained eye those men look like they're drinking alone but I can assure you, they are not.
In September of 2007, 2/16IN REG lost 6 Soldiers. The butterfly effect from that month spans life times. On September 4th, 2007 the 2nd Platoon of Charlie Company would leave FOB Rustamiyah and return later in the evening, one truck and five soldiers short of what they left with. Those on that patrol will never forget how hot it was on that day. The 7th anniversary of that day passed recently. I had no idea what to write or what to say. I saw several posts on different media sites. I lurked back read and said nothing. I wondered about the families. I thought about the men who were there. I thought about what ISIS is doing in that country right now. I thought about how the war in Iraq had been officially been over now for 3 years.
My biggest fear is that those men will be forgotten and that younger generations won't know who they are or their sacrifice. Their personalities are so much more than a name on a stone or a wall. I believe that as one of the people that was influenced by them that I try to infuse their legacy into the Soldiers that I encounter. That lessons learned on that day will never be repeated. That the bravery that was displayed on that day will never be forgotten. When asked why I do it I will always tell the new Soldiers, I do it because I get to serve with real heroes everyday. On that day I served with Joel Lee Murray, Duncan Crookston, Randol Shelton, David Lane, and Joseph Mixon, as they road in the deadliest position in the convoy, lead.
I always tell my Soldiers that the only reason why we do what we do is because of the bond that we share. Because you know no matter what that they will come for you. On Sept 4th they did. I watched Soldiers brave a blazing inferno of a truck with ammunition cooking off to get to their brothers and pull them to safety. They didn't care about anything but getting them out of the truck. Although it was too late for some of the guys it didn't matter. They will come for you. No matter what! Real life heroes gave their lives and limbs that day, real life heroes risked everything to save them.
September is a reminder for the families who had uniformed men knock on their door to tell them their son was not coming home. September is a month where a widow finds out that her son or daughter will grow up with out a father. I think about those kids. I hope they know and will always know how great their dads were. Young Jerry I can tell you that your dad was a lion. One of the smartest men I knew. He loved you so much. Isabelle your daddy carried around a stuffed animal of yours all the time and he was one of the funniest people that I ever met. All of us loved your fathers and we carry around their memories with us.
To the parents, your sons had an incredible impact on all of us. When this month rolls around we try to keep their memory alive. As leaders we do it on a daily basis. It's not just this month it's all of the time. All of us have certain triggers that take us back to that day. Your loved ones will never be forgotten.
Til Valhalla Gents until we can serve again. We miss you. You'll never be forgotten.

Stars n Stripes Article

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Christmas in Kunduz

Another Christmas away from home. They started back in 1995 my first military Christmas was in MCRD San Diego. On Christmas eve we moved all the bunks to the back of the bay to set up the "grinder" so that we could practice our close order drill. Punishment for poorly performed rifle manual and drill were swift and hard. If you couldn't get right you were invited to the "quarter deck" and you were put through a myriad of physical punishment while everyone else continued to drill. There were usually only just a few people on the quarter deck while the rest of watched out of the peripheral, paying special attention to the commands being given and hopefully not ending up in the little circle of pain. The majority of the performance was satisfactory, and our reward was to eat all of the cookies that had been sent from our families, the catch was we had 15 minutes to eat all of the cookies. Failure to eat all the cookies would've resulted in a "quarter deck" smoking that would bring the cookies right back up.
On Christmas day I remember we went to theatre and watched Desperado. We were 1st Phase recruits, the lowest of the low. The top button of our cammies buttoned to the top, and our trousers un-bloused, and rolled so that you could recognize how nasty and undisciplined we were.
We were sat in the theatre with our company, all around us the 3rd Phase recruits with their name tapes, and the coveted Marine tape over their hearts, uniforms pressed to perfection and trousers bloused over highly spit shined boots, they gorged theirselves with "pogey bait" purchased at the snack shop in the theatre. We hadn't been told there would be snacks, so we watched them eat, we must have looked pretty pitiful. I enjoyed that movie, the most memorable part of the day because I got to see Selma Hayeks beautiful breasts, she made my whole Christmas. I really can't remember anything after that. I don't think we got to call home either. It was the first of many that I would spend away from home.
This Christmas I got to spend it with my brother. He arrived in country on the 23rd. The last Christmas we spent together was in 1998, after my first deployment with the Marine Corps. Christmas eve we hung out most of the night, since it had been a year since I had seen him last. On Christmas day we ate lunch together. It was pretty nice to spend the holiday with him. When we were kids we were pretty lucky we got to celebrate at least 4 times, we were constantly on the go. It was pretty busy but it was nice to spend it with the whole family.
This year I watched my own family enjoy Christmas through my wife's pictures on the internet. We had a secret Santa here, I think everyone liked the gifts I presented the best which were 2 Mylie Cyrus blow up dolls. I know what people like.
I hope everyone got to spend good time with their families. You shouldn't ever take it for granted.
The Brigade did a little story on my brother and I. Here is the link https://170infantry.armylive.dodlive.mil/2011/12/25/for-brothers-christmas-in-kunduz/.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

At the Check Point

Last week was my first time at the check point that my Platoon occupies. My first couple of days there were enjoyable as we had a generator that powered the AC in our tent and the MWR where our SPAWARE computers and phones are. Well the generator shit the bed and so we spent the remaining time without creature features. I actually had to start reading again. I actually like to read believe it or not. I finished 2 great books and started another. I read Legion of the Lost by Jaime Salzaar about a guy tired of corporate America and he joins the Legion and quites later, good read though. The other book I read was SEAL Team Six: Memoirs of an Elite Navy SEAL Sniper by Howard Wasdin. It was a really great read as well about Seals in Mogadishu. I'm reading a Hunter S. Thompson book now volume one of the Fear and Loathing letters. I love HST.- What am I boring you, I was just explaining that I could actually read- losing interest? Fuck you.
Anyway it was really routine for the most part as routine as you can get with driving down a crater layden road known for blowing up. The kids around the check point call us John Cena. I think that is pretty cool and I'm appreciative that they recognize me as a desiel handsome WWE athlete. Though it gets fucking annoying. They kept finding wires in the road. We reward them with MRE's and shit is why they keep finding these. We went to investigate one of the sites and it actually looked legit so we called in EOD to come and clear it. We set up security and waited. They arrived and blew a charge, it turned out to be nothing. Better safe than sorry though. The most fun we had which wasn't really fun was the check point manned by Afghans took fire. We rallied up and were chomping at the bit to assist and kill bad guys. Our Battalion told us to squat hold and drink water until they could get the eye in the sky to check it out. Funny thing is they call back and say they can't see anything, meanstwhile (I know its not a word)RPK and AK are ripping up the night with rounds cracking over head and the insurgent and Afghan security slinging RPGs at eachother. No the eye in the sky can't see shit, and it sounded like the command doubted that this was really going on. My men were ready like pitbulls at Mike Vicks house. It made me proud that my men were willing to run to the sounds of a fire fight, standing ready to engage these Taliban shit bags and assist our Afghan security friends down the street. Alas the fire died down, and we just went back to bed. The men were let down, the command thought that we just wanted to willy nilly jump into a fight. Yes we were ready to scrap but no I would never rush wildly into a situation like that, I had a plan, just wanted to make sure we could move to assist if they needed us.
I'm confused still as to what were doing here. We are supposed to do partnered patrols, and find out what our counterparts need to accomplish there mission. They mainly need to be paid and also ask for supplies to build up there check points. We can't get them paid and not allowed to give them our scrap wood. They want them to utilize the "system", the "system" is obviously broke and we can't fix it at our level. Its frustrating to the Soldiers and to the Afghans. We know what you need and what you want but we can't do shit to get it to you so where does that leave us? Then people back at the big base watch a T.V. screen (the eye in the sky) and determine that there is nothing going on, they can't confirm that there is small arms fire going on and believe that the enemy only let off a couple of pop shots, and the Afghan security started lighting up the area. When we on the ground are watching a volley of fucking RPG fire. Man WTF?
Our PL did have a dinner for some of the local Afghan security guys, they actually showed up and we cooked some steaks and chicken and bought some bread and drinks off of the economy. My men set up a nice area and even made tiki torches out of pickets, soda cans, sand, and diesel fuel. I was really impressed and damned proud. The men really like the dinner and chalked it up to a pretty big success to the end of a frustrating week.
Right now I smell like 6 days of funk and I'm hankering for a strawberry Fanta. Until next time, I'll try not to bore you.
Deuce Deuce

Saturday, September 10, 2011

DRIVEN ON! (Shitty Roads)

Routine is a word that we use to describe or daily rituals. Most everyday starts out routine then evols in to a good day, or a shitty day. On Facebook people FML all the time, i.e. "My car won't start. FML.", "My baby daddy got a new bitch and don't pay me my money. FML."- so on and so forth.
Mostly the day starts out the same, I wake up in the small plywood room in a hard stand building, an upgrade from a tent? Maybe. Question my existance and motive. Evaluate all the shit I have to do, conduct personal hygiene and the rest of my morning ritual. Roll to the CP get the scoop on anything else I have to do. Go to the trucks where my men are getting ready for the days mission, conduct inspections and commos checks and roll out the gate. On this day we decided to take a different route since the purpose of the mission is "Route Recon". It was a shitty road, as most are in the Stan. Someone in the department of defense decided to purchase vehicles almost to wide and way to heavy for the shitty dirt roads that spiderweb all over this place. I get it, they want to protect us from IED's and such but in the thinking of the new vehicles why didn't they consider who we were chasing and what they get around in i.e. dirtbikes, bongo trucks, ford rangers, donkeys.
We stopped at one village out in the middle of no where, which is everywhere. On the way there we got stuck, then during a brown out my driver almost took us into a unforgiving hole, we avoided a couple roll overs, but hey its a route recon. At this particular village we speak to some Pashtuns, and start talking about a school and how they set aside land for a school but the government won't give them the money for the school. Well in the village there is already a building for the school but due to some crazy lost in translation shit, the kids don't go there. Well we walk down the road to the school to talk to the people that reside in the school. Its a residence that is supposed to be a school. There is an imaginary line in which the Pashtuns don't cross. We get to talking to a fellow that knows about the school, he is Tajik, his brother was the principle and the Pashtuns killed him for one reason or another. I'm still pretty confused as to the Tajiks (which are fewer in population than the Pashtuns in this village). There are tons of kids and as we leave they follow us up the road and once again they stop at the imaginary line.
We talk to the Pashtuns again and I'm outside with the guys pulling security when my driver tells me about a guy who crawled 400m up the side road outside his window. The medic and I go to check it out and it was about a 18 year male who had horrible birth defects which limite him to scooting and crawling. I tried to give him some water and he swung at me, but when doc checked him out he let the doc touch him. There was nothing we could do for him. He kinda looked like the chick from the Grudge, the men said that he was a zombie and a bad omen.
Well he was.
We drove up the road a little ways and passed over a colvert that looked very sketchy we turned the trucks around and headed back over the same colvert, first and second vehicle made it over, but the third in front of me the right tire bounced the giant truck shifted, then in slow motion the truck slid right and rolled off into a 15ft ditch. I was terrified, the truck landed on the turret completely upside down. I called on the radio that the truck rolled, I ran and jumped into the ditch as the driver was eggressing. I asked if everyone was ok and they assured me they were, I asked again, they confirmed everyone was alright. Unbelievable lady and gents seatbelts save lives. 5 Soldiers rolled over upside down off a 15 foot road and nobody was hurt not even the gunner. We waited for 6 or so hours for QRF and recovery assets to make it out to us. I set in an OP on top of a hill while the rest of the men pulled security on the truck below. I believe that the Russians dug the op we were sitting in because it was perfect. 360 degrees and upto 3km vis in every direction. Had the Taliban decided to descend on us in our weakend state they would've got their asses handed to them. They didn't (unfortuanately)the wrecker driver was amazing and picked the truck out of the ditch and then towed it across those shitty roads we passed earlier. We all felt very relieved when we got back on the hard-ball road (paved road). Any slight jerk to the right or left though on the way back freaked us all out in my truck at least. We talked in length about our sighting of the man from the grudge.
Routine, sometimes routine turns into holy shit, and FML. I got back and saw the usual facebook posts. I laughed at the FMLs that were posted, and thought that had something been a little different someone might have been killed or seriously injured, in the routine day to day life, on a "route recon" a mundane and boring mission. Routine.
FML
J/K
LOL
DEUCE DEUCE OUT!!!

Friday, September 02, 2011

Semper Paratus

I just got back from RnR. Its always hard leaving the ones you love. I foolishly spent a lot of money. In hindsight was it really foolish? 4 years ago this month my Battalion lost 7 Soldiers, out of the 7 4 were from my platoon. It reminds me in this buisness that life can change for you in a matter of seconds. A routine patrol can change the course of life for so many people. While families sleep sound in their beds 3000 miles away there loved ones are taken away in a matter of seconds. While they sleep and they dream men fight to save those who are in need because they know that the Soldier's, their friends, their brothers in that burning blown up vehicle need their help they risk their lives to save them even when a part of them knows that there is no chance they survived.
In the month of September in 2007 the 4th day of that month a 20" EFP struck the lead vehicle of a convoy of 3rd Platoon Charlie Company 2/16IN. It killed 3 instantly, 1 Soldier later died of wounds, and 1 Soldier lost both of his legs.
Though the truck was on fire and ammunition was cooking off and peppering the area around it, Soldier's knowing full well that there was explosives as well in that vehicle risked thier lives to save their friends.
As time moves on details are forgotten about the day, but some things are etched into our dreams forever. On one day in a matter of minutes many lives were altered.
I go back to thinking about the money that I spent on RnR and I don't regret it at all. You never know when your time is coming.
For the Soldiers that were there and to the families who's loved ones were taken from them that day in those few moments changed them forever. To the families I hope their is some peace in knowing how much your loved ones meant to us and how tight our little family was and how that incident drew us closer. Your loved ones will never be forgotten. A little bit of them lives on with us and is passed down to future Soldiers.
To the Soldiers who were there I will never forget your bravery, or the bond that we shared. I would walk into the valley of the shadow of death with you any day.
I recently spoke to a senior NCO who was on a MiTT attatched to 2/16IN. He told me he was really impressed with the Soldiers of the Rangers. We would lose our dear brothers then be right back out patroling. The mahdi tried to kill us everyday and you men Soldiered on.
SGT Joel Murray, CPL Duncan Crookston, SPC David Lane, SPC Randol Shelton KIA SEPTEMBER 4, 2007, Semper Paratus. You will never be forgotten.

Monday, August 08, 2011

Kris Lorenzo

I had the opportunity to work with Kris during my sting at Fort Jackson, hard working and funny you could always depend on him. He was the guy that would help everyone move and fix their cars, he even came to all the functions. He was a great dad and we all loved the company of his kids and his wife. I got to talk to Leah a little bit while Kris was in transit to Afghanistan and was hoping that some how we would link up. One day on Facebook, I read Leah's post that blew my mind, that her husband had been killed by an IED in Kunar province.
Its hard when you see the names and faces and you know them and you the families. My heart goes out to Leah and her beautiful sons.
I found an article on Leah's page from the LA TIMES and I hope that you will read it and learn a little bit about Kris Lorenzo. Never Forget.
Kris Lorenzo LA Times

Original Source | Taken Source