Some of you may have been wondering....
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_Mr. Coffee
- _Emeritus
- Posts: 627
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 6:18 am
I spend time home with my son, lashishing every want and whim on him that a new father could.
Someday this mere whelp of a boy would become the same sort of died in the wool killer of men and stalwart defender of America that I was.He had his mothers deep brown, almost ebon eyes, and the strong, pround, and almost unforgiving mouth of his Grandfather... On my side. We both locked gazes on our first meeting, me saying "You will be all that I never could", and him saying "I am, Father".
His was the first man's gaze I ever willingly looked away from without meeting that encounter with supreme violence. He met my gaze and held it. he held it for so long a time that stars died and galaxies burned. Yet unde that joyous and terrible gaze we came to an understanding...
He was my son I would survize to teach him every art and device I knew to slay my/our foe.
And then I went forth to a little loved and oft forgotten part of Africa. A place where men killed each other not because they were of another nation or another religion. These I understood. I knew also that such killing were self-limiting, as they killers wanted at the very least the children of the fallen to swell their own ranks....
Here in the darkest of Africas heart I finally saw "god", and I saw "evil", and I saw the evil that strong men do for lack of will to act. I stood there in my class alphas, a Warrior bred and borne, willing, ready, and wanting to act against tyanny, yet I was powerless to act by my own code and my orders to obey the same...
I watched, powerless as the the Hutu slaughtered the Tutsis. I was forced by my own code of "honor" to stand idly by while men with mechectes hacked away the limbs of women and children. While men with AK-47s indiscriminently killed thousands.
I personally, would have been meaningless in that conflict. My own death would have been worth nothing had I acted, because I knew then and there that no one, not my commanders overseas, nore those standing that terrible wall with me would give a damn.
I stood.
I watched.
And I lost faith.
Faith in myself as a man.
Faith in my Corps as a force that stood strong for the weak.
And in my God.
Aft\rall, what sort of god would stand by and fail to let strong men act to prevent such carnage. But then, how strong were we that failed to act?
I came home and for months I couldn't look my son in the eyes. He seems to know how and were I'd failed. And he wanted to know why.
Then Kosovo came....
Someday this mere whelp of a boy would become the same sort of died in the wool killer of men and stalwart defender of America that I was.He had his mothers deep brown, almost ebon eyes, and the strong, pround, and almost unforgiving mouth of his Grandfather... On my side. We both locked gazes on our first meeting, me saying "You will be all that I never could", and him saying "I am, Father".
His was the first man's gaze I ever willingly looked away from without meeting that encounter with supreme violence. He met my gaze and held it. he held it for so long a time that stars died and galaxies burned. Yet unde that joyous and terrible gaze we came to an understanding...
He was my son I would survize to teach him every art and device I knew to slay my/our foe.
And then I went forth to a little loved and oft forgotten part of Africa. A place where men killed each other not because they were of another nation or another religion. These I understood. I knew also that such killing were self-limiting, as they killers wanted at the very least the children of the fallen to swell their own ranks....
Here in the darkest of Africas heart I finally saw "god", and I saw "evil", and I saw the evil that strong men do for lack of will to act. I stood there in my class alphas, a Warrior bred and borne, willing, ready, and wanting to act against tyanny, yet I was powerless to act by my own code and my orders to obey the same...
I watched, powerless as the the Hutu slaughtered the Tutsis. I was forced by my own code of "honor" to stand idly by while men with mechectes hacked away the limbs of women and children. While men with AK-47s indiscriminently killed thousands.
I personally, would have been meaningless in that conflict. My own death would have been worth nothing had I acted, because I knew then and there that no one, not my commanders overseas, nore those standing that terrible wall with me would give a damn.
I stood.
I watched.
And I lost faith.
Faith in myself as a man.
Faith in my Corps as a force that stood strong for the weak.
And in my God.
Aft\rall, what sort of god would stand by and fail to let strong men act to prevent such carnage. But then, how strong were we that failed to act?
I came home and for months I couldn't look my son in the eyes. He seems to know how and were I'd failed. And he wanted to know why.
Then Kosovo came....
On Mathematics: I divided by zero! Oh SHI....
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_Mr. Coffee
- _Emeritus
- Posts: 627
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 6:18 am
Dante was wrong.
He fortgot abour Bosnia-Herzegovina. There was an entire new layer of hell and torment that the late Italian poet didn't even damned conceive of. He forgot the Tenth Circle. Composed of those that could act against evil but chose or did not. Even in a Comedy Devine, humor had long since left that tragic land.
We stood as a bulwark afast those that would harm the people in "our" villages. "God" help you if you threatened that which we protected. We would end you with utter and definent finality. Out little vale of Croates that wer protected...
We protected evil itself.
I went out on that one day to conduct what should have been a retine patrol of my area. Me and my spotter, invisable, one with the the dark hills we powrled. We searched for targets of oppertunity, Serbians that crossed the line...
Never did we... I... think that it was the same bastards we gave shelter tothat would turn out to be the greater of the evils I've faught for or against.
I crested a hill in stealth. You could have walked infront of me and my spotter and had we let you live, you never would.
That's not a boast. That's a testiment to the the training of the Marine Corps Scout Sniper.
We were death. We awated in the chadows for our prey and when they looked tom the light...
We ended them.
And then that onew day I witnessed the depths my seeming "freind" could go to.
Iwatched as they spread childrens toys along a path and spread traps amongst them.
Death traps, for chlidren.
Something in me hardened and tehn melted, like a suden frost along a glacier. We both saw this and we, like the sinlge being we were, acted as one....
"Target, 1580 meters... Fire, fire fire...".
That chant is something I will never forget. The southing and comforting sounds of my spoter, Billy, whispering into my ear to snuf the life from another person.
Billy, my whatever God you pray to rest your soul, Teuffelhunden. May the spirits of your grandfathers guide you my friend.
Anyways, without me even disignating a target, Billy started the death chant that would set me on my sight and end another mans life.
I could watch him. Lean and tall, as I was. He had a deep muscluarlity borne not just from long hours in the gym, but from supperior genetics... I watched him for the single breath it took for me to decide to end his life.
I had seen him and his people try to end chiuldren by trickery. They must die, as no warrior would fight in such a way.
After the first breath my breathing slowed to a crawl. The only things that were still real were the pulse in my finger and the movementof the man I decided was already dead. I drew in that finally breath... A long, slow and steady inward pull of air... Then a slown, and exonerable push as it departed.
And inb that final moment, between heartbeat and silience...
My Rifle Spoke.
She spoke with the vengful fury of 198 grains of projrectile being sent towards her target at three-thousand-eight-hundred-feet per second. Her sleek boat-tailed ass slide from my weapon like my own cock from a women. She was an example of the irrsistable force in flight.
And she flew true. The truest shot I have or ever will fire. And I say that as a Marksman and a Marine.
She, Anna, as I named, flew with a perfection and hit with a soundness I'd rarely seen in a projectile.
She didn;t just hit, she HIT.
His head was just a stump from his upper jaw upwards. A few teeth and a quivering lump spurting blood was all thatr I saw as I cyucled the bolt and centered on the next man unlucky to have the same love of killing children. They would all die. it was inevitable.
NBothing woult stop me from wrecking Gods vengful frury on these hereitics.
I ever started to not notice when my sporters' chant changed from "fire, fire, fire" to "HOLD YOUR damned FIRE!".
And in that last glimpse of my scope, I saw him shake handes with a United States Marine...
Faith? What the “F” is faith?
He fortgot abour Bosnia-Herzegovina. There was an entire new layer of hell and torment that the late Italian poet didn't even damned conceive of. He forgot the Tenth Circle. Composed of those that could act against evil but chose or did not. Even in a Comedy Devine, humor had long since left that tragic land.
We stood as a bulwark afast those that would harm the people in "our" villages. "God" help you if you threatened that which we protected. We would end you with utter and definent finality. Out little vale of Croates that wer protected...
We protected evil itself.
I went out on that one day to conduct what should have been a retine patrol of my area. Me and my spotter, invisable, one with the the dark hills we powrled. We searched for targets of oppertunity, Serbians that crossed the line...
Never did we... I... think that it was the same bastards we gave shelter tothat would turn out to be the greater of the evils I've faught for or against.
I crested a hill in stealth. You could have walked infront of me and my spotter and had we let you live, you never would.
That's not a boast. That's a testiment to the the training of the Marine Corps Scout Sniper.
We were death. We awated in the chadows for our prey and when they looked tom the light...
We ended them.
And then that onew day I witnessed the depths my seeming "freind" could go to.
Iwatched as they spread childrens toys along a path and spread traps amongst them.
Death traps, for chlidren.
Something in me hardened and tehn melted, like a suden frost along a glacier. We both saw this and we, like the sinlge being we were, acted as one....
"Target, 1580 meters... Fire, fire fire...".
That chant is something I will never forget. The southing and comforting sounds of my spoter, Billy, whispering into my ear to snuf the life from another person.
Billy, my whatever God you pray to rest your soul, Teuffelhunden. May the spirits of your grandfathers guide you my friend.
Anyways, without me even disignating a target, Billy started the death chant that would set me on my sight and end another mans life.
I could watch him. Lean and tall, as I was. He had a deep muscluarlity borne not just from long hours in the gym, but from supperior genetics... I watched him for the single breath it took for me to decide to end his life.
I had seen him and his people try to end chiuldren by trickery. They must die, as no warrior would fight in such a way.
After the first breath my breathing slowed to a crawl. The only things that were still real were the pulse in my finger and the movementof the man I decided was already dead. I drew in that finally breath... A long, slow and steady inward pull of air... Then a slown, and exonerable push as it departed.
And inb that final moment, between heartbeat and silience...
My Rifle Spoke.
She spoke with the vengful fury of 198 grains of projrectile being sent towards her target at three-thousand-eight-hundred-feet per second. Her sleek boat-tailed ass slide from my weapon like my own cock from a women. She was an example of the irrsistable force in flight.
And she flew true. The truest shot I have or ever will fire. And I say that as a Marksman and a Marine.
She, Anna, as I named, flew with a perfection and hit with a soundness I'd rarely seen in a projectile.
She didn;t just hit, she HIT.
His head was just a stump from his upper jaw upwards. A few teeth and a quivering lump spurting blood was all thatr I saw as I cyucled the bolt and centered on the next man unlucky to have the same love of killing children. They would all die. it was inevitable.
NBothing woult stop me from wrecking Gods vengful frury on these hereitics.
I ever started to not notice when my sporters' chant changed from "fire, fire, fire" to "HOLD YOUR damned FIRE!".
And in that last glimpse of my scope, I saw him shake handes with a United States Marine...
Faith? What the “F” is faith?
On Mathematics: I divided by zero! Oh SHI....
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_Mr. Coffee
- _Emeritus
- Posts: 627
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 6:18 am
This is my Rile.
There are many others like it
But this one is MINE....
With out me my Rifle is worthless
With out me, my Rilfe is worthles...
History has shownb to an again that the most poweful weapon if a man and his rilfe.
I am no exception. My rifle and I were as one... brathing, sight alightingment, trigger squeeze, even our spotters soft chant...
"HOLD YOUT damned FIRE!"....
My shot went wild. I failed, my rifle failed. We failed to hit.
I quickly recovered a sioght picture....
And there I saw a man in my uniform shaking ahnde with the same group of assholes that had just set explosives on childrens toys.
Onb;y Billy controlled me.
He said to me' Thewy to will meet their day, brother, just as my ancestors will meet theres..."
You see, by controlling that small group of SDerbs we "effectively" controlled thousands of square killometers.
I'd saved my spooters life and my own without firing a shot.
I should be proud.
But I wasn;t. It was only the end of our "invoilvement" in that sad ass helljole.
There are many others like it
But this one is MINE....
With out me my Rifle is worthless
With out me, my Rilfe is worthles...
History has shownb to an again that the most poweful weapon if a man and his rilfe.
I am no exception. My rifle and I were as one... brathing, sight alightingment, trigger squeeze, even our spotters soft chant...
"HOLD YOUT damned FIRE!"....
My shot went wild. I failed, my rifle failed. We failed to hit.
I quickly recovered a sioght picture....
And there I saw a man in my uniform shaking ahnde with the same group of assholes that had just set explosives on childrens toys.
Onb;y Billy controlled me.
He said to me' Thewy to will meet their day, brother, just as my ancestors will meet theres..."
You see, by controlling that small group of SDerbs we "effectively" controlled thousands of square killometers.
I'd saved my spooters life and my own without firing a shot.
I should be proud.
But I wasn;t. It was only the end of our "invoilvement" in that sad ass helljole.
On Mathematics: I divided by zero! Oh SHI....
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_Mr. Coffee
- _Emeritus
- Posts: 627
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 6:18 am
Yeah, I looked inbto that gaze again....
Onbly this time if wasn;t a man I made, or in a place he choise....
I looked oin this pathetiutiuc, worthless failure of life that my penis has given issue to...
I know it would hate me and try kelllllll;me.
So I ordered a nuclrear strick back.
We thought as one.....
Onbly this time if wasn;t a man I made, or in a place he choise....
I looked oin this pathetiutiuc, worthless failure of life that my penis has given issue to...
I know it would hate me and try kelllllll;me.
So I ordered a nuclrear strick back.
We thought as one.....
On Mathematics: I divided by zero! Oh SHI....
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_Sam Harris
- _Emeritus
- Posts: 2261
- Joined: Tue Nov 28, 2006 2:35 am
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_Ray A
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_Pokatator
- _Emeritus
- Posts: 1417
- Joined: Thu Oct 26, 2006 12:38 pm
Good luck Sir. I can sympathize with the PTSD but at the same time I can't understand teh hell your probably going through. Anger is a hard thing to understand sometimes and life can b ea tran wreck.
I am deeply sorry to hear about your son as well. My thoughts and emotions are with you.
I am deeply sorry to hear about your son as well. My thoughts and emotions are with you.
And crawling on the planet's face
Some insects called the human race
Lost in time
And lost in space...and meaning
Some insects called the human race
Lost in time
And lost in space...and meaning
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_Mr. Coffee
- _Emeritus
- Posts: 627
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 6:18 am
Yeah, well... Thanks. I'm pretty well screwed up six ways to sunday, and I'm just not really coming to terms with things as I should. Time will heal all wounds, blah blah blah, and all that crap, I know. Right now, I just want to go hurt something. But for some reason, the locazl laws say I can't go out and beat down illegal immigrants and Aggies fans for sport.
Damned laws...
Damned laws...
On Mathematics: I divided by zero! Oh SHI....