Leading from the front - Commandant of the US Marines General James Amos spends Thanksgiving Day in Helmand Province

Leadership is about taking action and being visible to those who you lead. This tennant of leadership is not lost on the Commandant of the US Marines General James Amos.

Semper Fi to the US Marines, as I spent a significant amount of time with them in Iraq and Afghanistan. They are the best and I am grateful for all that they do.

Top Marine spends Thanksgiving in Afghanistan
By ROBERT BURNS AP –

COMBAT OUTPOST HANSON, Afghanistan (AP) — A turkey trot it was not.
The U.S. Marines' top general, James Amos, sprinted up and down the Helmand River Valley in southern Afghanistan on Thursday, visiting frontline Marines at nine remote outposts to share Thanksgiving and applaud their gains against the Taliban in a region where al-Qaida hatched the 9/11 plot a decade ago.

Traveling mostly in an MV-22 Osprey, the hybrid that flies like an airplane and takes off and lands like a helicopter, Amos began shortly after daylight and finished 14 hours later — and, improbably, managed to confront just one turkey dinner.

Amos shook hands with hundreds of Marines, all veterans of tough fighting in Helmand Province, which has been a focal point of the U.S.-led strategy to counter the Taliban and other insurgent groups. The Marines have vastly improved security in Helmand over the past year, but with President Barack Obama having ordered 33,000 U.S. troops to withdraw from Afghanistan by next September, the prospects for sustaining those gains are uncertain, and the subject of debate at home.

At each stop Amos struck similar themes in pep talks to his Marines: they are coming close to winning, and when the Marine Corps leaves Afghanistan it will shift its focus to the Pacific, where he said "a whole lot of opportunities" will await a Corps no longer bogged down by land wars in the greater Middle East. He also said Thanksgiving is a time for Marines to reflect on "the unique fraternal bond" among men and women at war.

Marine Sgt. Maj. Michael Barrett, the top enlisted Marine, who accompanied Amos, said that for most troops Thanksgiving was just another day at war — until they finished their work.

"Then they'll have a meal of a lifetime," he said.
The feast was finally set for Amos when he arrived after dark at Camp Dwyer, the southern-most stop on his trip. He helped heap plates with roast turkey, baked ham and prime rib — with all the traditional fixings — and then sat amongst the troops to finish it off.

Amos said "Happy Thanksgiving" at each Marine outpost, but the troops did not seem in a festive mood — at least in the presence of their commandant. The business of war does not take a holiday. When he asked the Marines what was on their minds, they asked about the future of the Corps, the latest of Washington's stalled budget debate, the possibility of seeing some of their retirement benefits go away, and internal Marine issues.

Some conveyed a sense of confidence that Afghanistan would soon be behind them.
At Combat Outpost Hanson, one member of the 3rd battalion, 6th Marine Regiment asked, "Who do you want us to fight next, sir?" Amos said he did not know, but he reassured the Marine that there would be no shortage of security crises in the years ahead.

At Combat Outpost Alcatraz, in Sangin district where fierce fights against the Taliban have waned only recently, the top overall commander of the war, Marine Gen. John Allen, joined Amos for a pep talk to several dozen Marines.

Allen said Marines will "go home under the victory pennant," but he stressed that the struggle to degrade Taliban influence and build up Afghan security forces — in Helmand and throughout Afghanistan — is far from over.

"As big as this is, and as hard as it has been, we are going to be successful here," Allen said. "We're going to win this. We're going to liberate these people, we're going to set this country up to be a free country in one of the toughest regions in the world."

There are now about 97,000 U.S. troops in Afghanistan. All are scheduled to leave by the end of 2014.

Amos clearly relished the chance to see so many combat Marines, but his trip was no joy ride. His itinerary was a closely-held secret, and the aircraft on which he flew was heavily armed.

As a CH-53 helicopter lifted off from a barren field across a dirt highway in the northern Helmand village of Puzeh, with Amos and part of his entourage aboard, a bearded special operations Marine quipped, "Cross your fingers." And then, as the chopper rose above a billowing wall of powdery dust, the Marine added, only half jokingly, "Whew! Getting the commandant shot down at your (outpost) would not be a good thing."

An unbreakable bond

In this Sept. 14, 2011 photo, a U.S. Marine dog handler plays with military working dog Fuli, at Camp Leatherneck, Helmand province, Afghanistan. Handlers and their dogs, that sniff for explosives or narcotics or track down wanted persons, patrol together, day after day. Sometimes, they sleep side by side in military cots. They face the same dangers together. (AP Photo/Brennan Linsley)


Our K-9 companions prove again and again why they are " Man's best friend " - No one who has spent time on the field of battle will ever challenge how much dogs make a difference in the lives of our soldiers. I know that in my time overseas in Iraq & Afghanistan, it was easy to see that the pups made a big difference for those who are at the " tip of the spear"


Military dogs and handlers patrol in Afghanistan
By CHRISTOPHER TORCHIA, Associated Press – 1 day ago

FORWARD OPERATING BASE JACKSON, Afghanistan (AP) — After the suicide bombing, the U.S. Marine dog handler lay on a stretcher, his bloodied legs laced with shrapnel. They brought in his wounded dog, too. Blood dripped from the haunches of the Belgian Malinois.

Seven Afghans died in the insurgent attack on Sept. 8 near a Marine battalion headquarters in southern Afghanistan. Sgt. Kenneth Fischer and his dog, Drak, were flown by helicopter to a bigger base for emergency treatment, then out of the country for surgery. Both will head to Texas for rehabilitation, and eventually, in line with military custom, Fischer will adopt Drak and take him home.

"I have literally spent more time with Drak than I have my own daughter," Fischer, 27, said by telephone earlier this week from his hospital bed at a military medical center in Bethesda, Maryland. The Marine had worked with 4-year-old Drak for two years and spent a total of nine months in Afghanistan. His daughter, Cheyenne, is 19 months old.

Much is made of the bond among men at arms, but the union between man and dog in a combat zone seems just as tight. Handlers and canines that sniff for explosives or narcotics patrol together, day after day, linked by a leash and an innate understanding of each other. Sometimes, they sleep side by side in military cots. They face the same dangers together.

A unit of handlers and dogs operates out of Camp Leatherneck, the main Marine base in southern Afghanistan, home to insurgent strongholds. The teams fan out in Helmand province and beyond, working with Marines and other branches of the U.S. military, as well as Afghan forces and, at times, British troops.

Eight of the 30 handlers have been wounded this year, but Drak was the only dog to be wounded, said Staff Sgt. Morris Earnest, supervisor of the unit, which is part of the III Marine Headquarters Group. Half went home because of the severity of their injuries. Three of those lost limbs to homemade bombs, but their dogs emerged "without a scratch."

Tucked inside the Leatherneck compound, a memorial pays tribute to Marine Cpl. Max William Donahue, a dog handler killed last year, and dogs that have died in attacks or from heat exhaustion and other causes in past years. A simple white cross, erect in a bed of pebbles, lists their names on wooden plaques hanging from the crossbar: Frida, Grief, Murdock, Torry, Chico, Dixie, Patrick, Marko.

"From a few of the finest. To the finest of the few," the memorial reads.

On Aug. 6, 30 American troops and eight Afghans died in a helicopter crash in eastern Afghanistan, and a U.S. military dog on board was also killed.

Dogs serve a small but valued role for the U.S.-led coalition that seeks to quell Taliban groups and transfer security responsibilities to Afghan forces in time for the withdrawal of foreign combat troops by the end of 2014.

Ideally, the dogs, which include labradors and German and Dutch Shepherds, give an edge in unearthing boobytraps laden with explosives or detecting drugs in a region where the Taliban reaps profits from poppy harvests used in opium production. A handler and his dog usually follow behind a sweeper with a metal detector at the front of a single-file patrol.

An Associated Press team at Forward Operating Base Jackson, headquarters for the 1st Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment, witnessed the early treatment of casualties after the Sept. 8 suicide bombing in the district center of Sangin. While Fischer and other wounded were cared for, a trio of dog handlers tended to Drak, muzzling and hoisting him onto a stretcher before rushing him to a helicopter.

"He should be OK," Fischer said 10 days later by telephone, his voice raspy after having tubes inserted down his throat during treatment. "At first, there was some talk about him losing one of his legs, but not so much anymore. Knowing Drak, he should be fine."

Drak, trained to find narcotics, is being treated at Dog Center Europe, a U.S. military facility in Germany. He will be transferred for more care at Lackland Air Force Base, a training site for military dogs in San Antonio, Texas.

Fischer plans to head there, too. His wife has family there, and he wants to be with Drak, whose name is a variation of Drac, or "devil" in Romanian.

"When he meets people, he can be calm and relaxed," the Marine said. "When we go outside, he's excited and rambunctious and likes to play, and I'm the same way."

What Drak doesn't like is shooting. During gunfire training, he lay down beside Fischer, calm and meek, until it was over. He did the same during a Taliban mortar attack.

"He is a very obedient dog," Fischer said. "He will only listen to me. Somebody else will be around and give him commands and he'll just look at them like they're stupid."

Fischer wants to resume his Marine Corps career. But, he said, Drak can spend his days lying around at Fischer's home at his duty station in Twentynine Palms, California, or playing frisbee, one of the dog's favorite activities. He acknowledged it will be "some time" before they get there because of their injuries.

Sgt. Mark Behl, a dog handler who helped Drak the day he was injured, said it helps to fit a calm handler with a "high drive" dog, or an "excited person with a bored dog."

Placid and amiable, Behl said his dog, a German Shepherd named Fuli, is "a handful."

Dog handling under the stress of danger is a subtle, pinpoint profession. Behl said he knows Fuli so well after two and a half years together that he can tell whether he is sniffing idly, perhaps on the trail of another animal's scent, or has detected something serious, such as the ingredients of crudely made explosives.

"There's a lot more to the job than just holding the leash," said Behl of Cottage Grove, Wisconsin. "I know to keep him moving or to let him work."

At the same time, he must know when to pull Fuli away from a threat, aware of the hidden bombs that have killed or maimed many troops in Afghanistan.

Fuli has a vexing habit during patrols in cornfields of running into adjacent rows of corn and getting his leash tangled around the stalks. But he plays ball with Marines back on base, boosting their morale.

"At the end of the day, the dog is going to come up and lick me in the face," said Behl, who grew up around dogs. "It's a little taste of home, just having an animal."

“It’s not about ribbons or medals out here, it’s about being a part of a team.." - Marine Sgt. Maj. & Son Serve Together

Fathers & sons.....together and dedicated to selfless service to their country and the USMC that they both love.

My son & I were in the US Navy at the same time but he was on a carrier and I wound up spending all my time out in the Middle East, having too much fun in the "sand box".

SEMPER FI to the Sgt. Major and his Son. You make us proud.


Marine Sgt. Maj., Son Serve Together
July 29, 2011
Marine Corps News by Cpl. Rashaun X. James

CAMP LEATHERNECK, Afghanistan -- Upon hearing the news that his son would be deploying to Afghanistan, Sgt. Maj. Robert Allen of Marine Wing Support Squadron 272 began making the arrangements to join the fight.

“After I came off of recruiting duty I started trying to get into a unit that was deploying so I would be here with him during his first deployment,” said Allen. “I wanted him to have someone to talk to and vent to.”

The elder Allen works in the support squadron’s compound on Camp Leatherneck and spends most of his days literally across the street from his son, also Robert Allen, a Marine lance corporal and motor transport operator with Combat Logistics Battalion 8.


“This experience has been helpful for both of us,” the sergeant major said. “We talk all the time. We laugh and we kid around with each other, and it makes the days go by a bit quicker.”

But knowing all too well the pitfalls young Marines encounter, the senior Allen said he works in earnest to steer his son away from them.

“In my experience, young Marines are so eager to come out here and do great things that they forget about the need to have a balance between work and taking time to call their spouses to see how they are doing back home,” said the sergeant major.

Lance Cpl. Allen and his wife, D’Lee, were married Jan. 2, just 22 days before he deployed.

“He definitely keeps me in check,” the younger Allen said about his father. “There was one time when I hadn’t called my wife in about a week and a half and he came and got me out of bed and made me call her at 11 o’clock at night.”

Among other lessons he has imparted on his son, Allen said he has stressed the need to stay physically fit, keep a positive attitude and remain humble.

“It’s not about ribbons or medals out here, it’s about being a part of a team and doing the best job you can do,” said the elder Allen. “It’s not about the recognition.”

While the experience of deploying together has further bonded the two Marines, both agree the person who has faced the brunt of heartache and stress has been Leslie Allen, the wife of the elder Allen, and mother of the younger.

“This whole thing has driven my mother crazy,” said the younger Allen. “Growing up, my dad’s deployments really weren’t that bad because after a while we just got used to them, but this is all completely different with us both being here.”

Leslie said her feelings about the deployment fluctuate daily, but her heart bursts with pride knowing two generations of the Allen family are fighting side-by-side.

But the sergeant major, with 26 years of Marine Corps service, said he knows never before has his wife faced the possibility of such a devastating loss as during this deployment.

“My son and I went on a convoy together, and it was one of the worst convoys they’d had in a long time, with four improvised explosive devices hitting and three [medical evacuations],” said Allen. “I’d say she’s probably aged ten years since we’ve both been out here. She deserves all the credit in the world. She’s been taking care of everything on the home front, all while continuing to be a great wife to me and a wonderful mother for him.”

“I’ve been seeing my husband off for 25 years now, that I got used to, but this is my first time sending my son off as well,” said Leslie. Both Leslie and her husband are natives of Portland, Maine, and the family claims the New England state as their home outside of the Marine Corps.

“I now understand the feelings of a mother as opposed to a wife,” Leslie Allen said. “While many of the feelings are the same, it’s somehow different with a child.”

In the near future, the younger Allen will head back to Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune, N.C. Leslie Allen said she and her daughter-in-law, D’Lee, have been busy in North Carolina, preparing for the young Marine’s return.

“D’Lee just signed the contract to move into base housing, so that’s been keeping us busy getting their first home ready for when Robert gets back,” Leslie Allen explained.

A few months after the lance corporal’s return, his father will join him in the Jacksonville, N.C., area, bringing their time serving in Afghanistan together to a close.

“This has been great,” said the younger Allen. “Having someone in your family in the same branch of service deployed overseas with you is something that everyone in the Marine Corps dreams of while they’re here. I never thought this would happen.”

Both men share a common belief in the importance of loyalty. It is something that has been passed down from father to son and has evolved into a creed between the two.

“My son’s got a tattoo on his arm that says, ‘Family and Loyalty,’ and it’s something we live by,” said the elder Allen. “He’s finally seeing what I’ve talking about for all these years, that while he and I are a family, the Marine Corps is our family, too.

“To see my son put on a uniform and help defend his country with such zeal and honor has proven to be the culminating feature of my career,” said the sergeant major. “I feel even better going home to retire now that my son is a Marine. I know he’s got it, and everything is good to go.”

With the Warriors: How our Marines go about the business of destroying the Taliban by Bing West

The late great Milton Berle was asked why he took other comedian's jokes and retold them. His response was, " If you're gonna steal, steal from the best”.

I admit to taking this from two of the best, my shipmate LEX who posted the link, and Bing West, the author of this fine read....

General Bing West's Bio -

Bing West served as Assistant Secretary of Defense for International Security Affairs in the Reagan administration. A graduate of Georgetown and Princeton Universities, he served in the Marine infantry. He was a member of the Force Recon team that initiated attacks behind North Vietnamese lines.

He wrote the counterinsurgency classic, The Village, that has been on the Commandant's Reading List for 40 years. His books have won the Marine Corps Heritage Prize, the Colby Award for Military History, the VFW Media Award and the General Goodpaster Soldier-scholar Award. He has been on hundreds of patrols and operations throughout Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. Bing is a member of St. Crispin's Order of the Infantry and the Council on Foreign Relations.

He is also wearing a BOSTON RED SOX cap in the picture, so he is among the faithful of RED SOX NATION....awesome.

Without further ado, I give you his fine words.

SEMPER FI !


With the Warriors:
How our Marines go about the business of destroying the Taliban

NATIONAL REVIEW
pub date: March 7, 2011

Patrol Base Fires, Sangin District, Helmand Province, Afghanistan

The view from this platoon outpost in southern Afghanistan is unobstructed, both visually and strategically. On all sides stretch flat, bare, winter farmlands dotted with walled compounds. The strategy is aggressive patrolling to kill and drive out the Taliban, who have acted as the rural government here for 15 years.

Beginning in 2006, British forces held on to a few square kilometers that constituted the district center. Their strategy was to fight defensively while trying to win over the population. According to British brigadier general Edward Butler, “the central theme of the counterinsurgency, winning the hearts and minds, was still core to our plans.” In accord with that plan, the British Provincial Reconstruction Team poured millions of pounds into development projects. As a result, the economy flourished. But the Pashtun farmers remained at best stolidly neutral and at worst sullenly hostile. Outside the district center, the Taliban remained entrenched in the farmlands, called the Green Zone. The farmers supported them, or at least obeyed their rules.

In the fall of 2010, the British forces left, having suffered 106 killed in four years. U.S. Marines took over and changed the strategy from trying to win the cooperation of the farmers into a straight-up assault to drive the Taliban from the 40-kilometer-long valley. The British lost an average of 26 men per year on the defensive; the Marines lost 26 men in 100 days on the offensive, while driving the Taliban north.

The patrol base, named Fires because of the intensity of the daily fighting, was at the northern edge of the Marine advance. When I arrived in mid-January, Lt. Vic Garcia, the seasoned platoon commander, handed me two tourniquets.

“If someone goes down near you on patrol,” he said, “wrap him real tight and watch where you step.”

Garcia explained that the Taliban roam in small gangs among the farm compounds, sow mines, and attack from the flanks. When we set out on a combat patrol, the 15 Marines walked in single file across brown, furrowed farmlands suggestive of New England in early spring. Lance Cpl. Colby Yazzie, a full-blooded Navajo Indian, swept a narrow path with his metal detector, while his Irish-American partner, Lance Cpl. Kyle Doyle, watched out for snipers.

Near a footbridge across an irrigation canal, Yaz clenched his fist to halt the platoon, then knelt down and scratched at the dirt. He took out wire cutters, snipped a few wires, and held up two small boards wrapped in tape. Glued to the underside of each board was a sliver of metal. When a foot pressed down on the boards, the metal plates came together, completing an electrical circuit connecting a flashlight battery to a plastic jug filled with explosives. Yaz attached a small charge to the IED (improvised explosive device) and blew it up, and the patrol continued.

In 100 days of patrolling four kilometers north of the Sangin district center, Kilo Company of the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment had found 115 IEDs. Another 14 had exploded. Of the 136 Marines in Kilo, nine had been killed and 35 severely wounded. Of four platoon commanders, one had been killed and another had lost a leg to a mine. (The unit designations relevant to this article are, from largest to smallest, regiment, battalion, company, platoon, and squad. Lieutenant Garcia’s platoon contained 50 Marines, who were divided into three squads.)

After discovering the first IED, we walked north at a steady, careful pace. Not one farmer was out tilling the lands sown with mines. Yaz again clenched his fist, knelt down, disarmed and blew up an IED. The patrol continued for a while, then halted suspiciously at the edge of a large field. On the far side were two long compound walls, dotted with “murder holes” — small peepholes for the Taliban rifle barrels.

The Marines peered at the wall through the telescopic sights on their rifles. Suddenly, the squad leader, Sgt. Philip McCulloch, fired a single shot.

“Scratch one stinky,” he said.

(A few months earlier, in Sangin, a rocket had slammed into Mac’s vehicle, knocking him out. The doctors wanted to send him back to the States, but he kicked up such a fracas that he remained hospitalized in Afghanistan until he talked his way back to Kilo Company. A few days before I arrived, his squad had pursued a Taliban gang for two kilometers. After a bullet creased the inside of Mac’s thigh, he had avoided treatment at the aid station, fearing he might be pulled to the rear.)

Mac’s squad spread out along the edge of the field, which marked their northern patrol boundary, and waited for a fight. The rear security stopped a man driving past on a motorcycle. He wore clean clothes and his hands bore no calluses. He said he was an out-of-work mullah.

Lieutenant Garcia sensed that the man was a “dicker,” part of the Taliban’s unarmed warning network. But, lacking any evidence, he told him to leave. On his third combat tour, Garcia was the sole officer at Patrol Base Fires. He accompanied most patrols, while letting the squad leaders run the show. Garcia was the second officer to command the platoon at Fires. His predecessor had been shot and killed. The unquestioned leader, he kept a short leash on McCulloch’s attack instincts.

After waiting a while at the field, Garcia signaled to McCulloch to head back south.

“The stinkies aren’t playing,” Garcia said. “The game’s not in their favor.”

Like football teams, fighting units at the tactical level display distinct styles. The Taliban style reminded me of the rice paddies south of Da Nang in 1966, where the Viet Cong used the same tactics and the Marines countered with small, aggressive patrols.

The tactics are simple and effective. The Taliban’s warning net allows small teams to slip into tree lines in front of the Marine patrols. When the patrol file crosses an open field, the Taliban open fire, hoping for a hit or a rash rush by the Marines across a minefield.

The Marines’ counter is equally simple. One element peels off to flank the enemy, while another keeps aimed fire on the enemy position. If the Taliban remains too long in a fixed location, indirect fire (fire without a line of sight to the target, as from artillery) is called in. Every Marine has a telescopic rifle, and most of the fleeting targets are about 400 meters distant.

Yaz was leading the patrol back by a different route across a furrowed field when he stopped a third time. Again he uncovered a pressure-plate IED.

“That’s crazy,” McCulloch said. “An IED in the middle of nowhere.”

That IED was sure to blow the legs off a passing farmer — or a Marine. Yaz pointed to three small rocks several feet away, a tipoff for a passing Taliban gang that there was a mine in the vicinity.

A few minutes later, we walked past a crumbled wall, startling two dark brown coyotes. Again Yaz stopped, knelt, and disarmed a pressure plate. Four mines in the path of one patrol, and he had found them all.

When Kilo arrived in early October, 1st Sgt. Chris Melendez said to the troops, “I’m telling you now — some of you will go home missing arms or legs. I know that sounds hard, but God won’t give you any burden you can’t handle. So go out there, kill the enemy, and don’t flinch.”

The worst incident occurred in mid-October, just after the Marines moved into Patrol Base Fires. When a squad patrol slipped into a canal to avoid machine-gun fire, one Marine stepped on a pressure plate. Rushing to staunch his bleeding, another Marine ran forward and detonated another mine. The squad leader went down next, hit by the machine gun. A corpsman running to help the injured triggered the third mine, losing both legs.

As the dead and wounded were evacuated by helicopter, the Taliban pressed forward. They had diverted a nearby canal to flood the fields around the patrol base. Capt. Nick Johnson, the Kilo Company commander, and every available Marine at the nearby company base waded through the fields in chest-high mud to carry ammunition to the patrol base. Johnson then gathered the exhausted Marines inside Fires.

“In 1950,” he said, “this battalion walked out of the Chosin Reservoir in North Korea, beating off thousands of Chinese soldiers. Now it’s your turn. Come morning, we’re taking the fight to them.”

After that, every day that the platoon went out, they killed more and learned more.

Back at the crumbled wall, Garcia decided to leave the mines that lurked among the ruins to the coyotes and return to base. As they were walking by the field where Yaz had found the third IED, the crack! from a high-powered sniper rifle sent everyone to the prone. They flopped down just as a PKM machine gun (a long-range, reliable weapon) opened up with short bursts. Garcia sent McCulloch around to the left to outflank the machine gun. Mac saw one man sprinting away, leaving behind a jug of explosives, and he heard the bolt of a sniper rifle open and close, a sure sign the sniper was nearby. But it took Yaz a while to sweep for hidden mines. This gave the sniper and the machine-gun crew time to flee the area. Mac found a pile of spent cartridges behind a wall and retraced his steps back to Garcia.

The tone of a combat outfit is set from the top. The regimental commander, Col. Paul Kennedy, insisted upon discipline and aggressiveness. That ethos permeated the regiment. The Marines shaved every morning in the field and left no plastic food wrappings in the farm fields. On-call mortars tracked every patrol movement. “Close to zero” was the watchword, meaning that every engagement should end with Marines standing on the enemy positions.

In this case, having closed to zero only to find the enemy had fled, Mac’s squad returned to Patrol Base Fires shortly before dark. The Taliban don’t move at night in areas where the American thermal sights can detect them; and the Marines don’t patrol in the dark, when they can’t detect the mines.

At Fires, there were no showers, no lights, and no Internet. Evening talk centered on how to stay alive and kill. Snail mail took three to four weeks. Bountiful packages from the States included delicious cookies, warm socks, fleece linings for the sleeping bags, touching notes from third-graders, and piles of leftover Halloween candies. The men slept warmly in their bags inside small cave-like indentations in the side of a thick compound wall.

In the morning, the patrol went out again, pushing north two kilometers to a cluster of compounds flying the white flag of the Taliban. Through the centuries, armies have held aloft their battle streamers to signify group solidarity and power. It is a way of saying, “Here we are, all ye foolish enough to give challenge.” In response, the platoon had rigged a flagpole at the patrol base and proudly flew the Stars and Stripes, with the maroon-and-gold Marine flag beneath.

The Taliban bluffed as though they would defend their flags. Their opening machine-gun burst kicked up a dust line just two feet to the right of Yaz and McCulloch. The Marines lost no time in falling prone and establishing return fire.

The Taliban were split into three firing positions. The nearest was a tree line along a ditch 300 meters to the Marines’ front. Tiny figures were darting back and forth, popping off a few shots from behind one tree trunk and then another. When the Marine snipers hit one and a first sergeant visiting from regimental headquarters hit a second one, the Taliban fire slackened.

Garcia directed Mac to flank the compound from the west. He then told another sergeant to call in mortars. An F-18 radioed to Garcia that from 8,000 feet their camera pod had zoomed in on two men with rifles on the roof of Compound 38. Garcia confirmed that a prior patrol had reported 38 as abandoned. He radioed to battalion, where the air officer cleared the F-18 to make a gun-strafing run. Unfortunately, it was low on fuel and had to return to base. So Garcia authorized a mortar strike on the tree line in front of the compound.

Garcia’s coordinated moves took about ten minutes to execute and ten decades to develop. No infantry unit in the world can match the intelligence, the teamwork, and the coordination of an American squad working with mortars, artillery, and air.

Usually Taliban in the open pull back rapidly once under indirect fire. Sure enough, the Taliban fire stopped. Mac’s squad moved forward, blew a breach in the compound wall, searched inside, and found only blankets and cooking utensils. The Marines pulled down one Taliban flag, ignored a few others, and returned to base.

When we got in from the patrol, Sgt. John Browning, the leader of the snipers in the platoon, walked over to a wall with stick figures carved into the baked mud. Taking out his knife, he carved in two more figures. The Marines at Fires loathe the Taliban. They call them “stinkies” after the repellent smell of feces. They scorn their tactic, when under fire, of running to a group of women and children, knowing the Marines will not shoot. The Pashtun farmers tolerate or cooperate with the Taliban, who walk in their midst and are not pointed out. The Taliban grab children to shield them on their motorcycles, and the parents let it happen. The people will point out mines on the roads they use, but they won’t reveal who put the mines there.

The platoon at Outpost Fires has killed 121 of the enemy. We applaud pilots who shoot down five enemy aircraft by calling them “aces”; grunts win no such public praise, but they do keep score. At Patrol Base Fires, Garcia’s 50 Marines engaged in the heaviest sustained combat in Afghanistan. In just three months, two Marines were killed, two others had limbs amputated, and eight more were evacuated with other severe wounds. In response to this 20 percent loss rate, Garcia’s platoon has asked for a larger battle space to pursue the Taliban.

In Sangin, the British had spent tens of millions of pounds on “non-kinetic” (non-shooting) counterinsurgency, trying to win support by building clinics and schools. They opened up the main market, expanding trade and production. They focused on the people, but the people did not respond. When the British left Sangin, the Taliban still held the countryside and the roads leading to the market.

The U.S. Marines focused on clearing the enemy, with no expectation that the people would shift allegiances until the Taliban were soundly beaten. This approach has a price, because you can’t clear heavily mined farmlands without losses; but you can’t win a war by staying on the defensive. On the battlefields, the British are our closest allies and comrades; they will attack side-by-side with us. At the top level, though, there is a political divergence between us and them about risk-taking and casualties.

Our grunts in Sangin view the Pashtun farmers as bystanders, often aligned with the Taliban. Generally the farmers are seen fleeing or closing the compound gates when a patrol approaches. The people know the Taliban shoot anytime from anywhere. Whether the passivity and self-sacrifice of the farmers is due to intimidation or to religious or tribal solidarity is of no interest to the passing Marines, who know the fight is between them and the Taliban. Although they recognize the sheer hard work and misery of the farmers and say time and again that “the kids back in the States don’t know how good they have it,” there’s no talk of liberating the people.

Down to the squad level, most leaders are on their second or third combat tour. When they are hit, they hit back twice as hard. They are sympathetic to the people, but they’re not persuaded they can win over the tribes enough to make them go against the Taliban, including members of their own families.

The Americans at Sangin see themselves first and foremost as warriors, reflecting the sentiments of the regimental commander, Colonel Kennedy. I first met him in Ramadi, Iraq, in 2004, when he was a battalion commander fighting up and down the streets as the battle exploded in nearby Fallujah. Kennedy’s battalion of 800 Marines had 35 killed in action. During that battle, he wrote to the families back in the States, “Previous to yesterday the terrorists thought that we were soft enough to challenge. . . . By the end of the evening, the local hospital was full of their dead. . . . It will be a cold day in Hell before we are taken for granted again.”

In Sangin, an assassin almost killed Kennedy during a meeting with tribal elders to discuss the withdrawal of the Taliban. The next day, Lieutenant Garcia responded by pushing his patrol base one kilometer farther north into Taliban territory. The Taliban had read the situation correctly: Kennedy was their enemy, implacably moving forward. The Taliban throughout Helmand Province were not accustomed to the warrior ethos of the Marines. Marja and Garmsir, the enemy hubs at the southern end of the province, collapsed in 2010. At the northern end, the campaign in Sangin is likely to force the Taliban out of the valley by the end of this summer.

After that, it’s an open question whether the Marine battalions will stay to manage economic projects and mentor officials appointed by Pres. Hamid Karzai, or will pull back, placing Afghan soldiers with Marine advisers in the lead.

Sangin is not a microcosm of the war. It is not possible to extrapolate from Sangin to all of Afghanistan. Across the east and south of Afghanistan, the scale of the fighting and the performance of coalition units are too varied to single out any one district as typical. At the tip of the spear in the south, the morale of the grunts in Kilo Company is high. They don’t reflect on past policy errors or the future of Afghanistan. Strategy is the business of generals and elected officials. The grunts understand that American or Afghan politics may create a good, bad, or murky ending to America’s involvement. Instead of becoming entangled in academic theories about winning hearts and minds, Sergeant McCulloch, Lieutenant Garcia, and Colonel Kennedy measure themselves by whether they dominate on the battlefield.

That spirit — that warrior ethos — will always be critical to our nation’s security.

You can read more at http://www.westwrite.com/

US Marine from FOXBORO, MA chases World's Record while serving at Camp Leatherneck in Afghanistan

Staff Sgt. George Bryant, 27, of Foxboro, Mass., executes an overhead Olympic-style lift as part of a CrossFit workout aboard Camp Leatherneck, Afghanistan, Feb. 1. Bryant, the data chief for Alpha Company, 9th Communications Battalion, I Marine Expeditionary Force (Fwd), has been training with CrossFit for the last five months and plans to set the Guinness World Record for highest standing box jump in the near future.

It was nice to see the Marines on the TV from Camp Leatherneck at the start of the Super Bowl.....Here's a story about a local boy from FOXBORO, MA (Home of the NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS) - Glad to see that my homestate is represented by such fine Marines as this young SSG who is after a world's record and also proud to defend his country.

SEMPER FI SSG Bryant....you make us proud.

Leap of faith: 9th Comm. Marine’s athletic obsession fuels chase of world record Regional Command Southwest
Story by Sgt. Jeremy Ross

CAMP LEATHERNECK, Afghanistan -- Staff Sgt. George Bryant is sore. On a recent afternoon here the 27-year-old data chief for Alpha Company, 9th Communications Battalion, walks into the makeshift fitness area at the battalion’s compound wearing compression tights. For the soreness, he says. Most Marines pride themselves on fitness, but not to the point of wearing ultra-tight clothing to alleviate the pain of the previous day’s workout. Then again, most Marines don’t work out like Bryant does.

“I am sore every day that I wake up,” he says as he slides plates onto a bar for his warm-up. “It’s always a new body part though, so it’s never demoralizing. It’s kind of nice.”

Aches and all, here he is at the plywood and camouflage net outdoor gym that has been his domain nearly every day for the last five months. The gym is a hodgepodge of handmade wooden workout stations. There’s a set of pull-up bars, a pair of dip bars, a collection of large tires for flipping. Weight plates and Olympic bars are nearby, along with a set of kettle bells. These are all tools of CrossFit, the high-intensity program that is part workout and part philosophy. In the hands of a fitness buff like Bryant, they might as well be torture devices.

In a corner of the gym sits a palcon, a box-like military container. Its top lies 40 inches from the ground. A wooden post stands next to it. Scratched into the post are markers, one at 42 inches, a second at 55 inches. The higher mark indicates Bryant’s highest standing box jump, a CrossFit exercise in which an athlete begins flat-footed on the ground and ends flat-footed on a surface higher than the starting point.

If Bryant has his way, there will be a third marker on the post. It will read 57 inches. It will be a Guinness World Record.

Sports have always been part of Bryant’s life. As a freshman at King Phillip Regional High School in Wrentham, Mass., Bryant stood 5 feet 5 inches and weighed more than 200 pounds. He played center and middle linebacker on the football team. This would be the first in a long series of sports interests.

“I have a very over-achieving personality,” he explained. “If I find something that piques my interest, I put everything I have into it, until I master it. Once I master it I find myself getting bored.”

He’s a 7-handicap golfer. He’s a licensed scuba diver. He enjoyed his first sky diving trip to the point that he paid for a second jump immediately after landing… and then made 99 more in five months.

As his activities have changed, so has his weight – to a surprising, doppelganger-like degree. To even ship to boot camp, Bryant had to lose weight. It took him four months to slim down from his linebacking build to the 181-pound max allowed for his 5-foot-7-inch frame. By the end of recruit training at Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island, S.C., he was a trim 153 pounds.

Bryant wouldn’t stay slim for long. While deployed to Djibouti in 2004, Bryant was introduced to serious weight lifting. During his 13 months in Africa he bulked up to 241 pounds. After returning to the U.S. he got into amateur bodybuilding while stationed at Marine Corps Air Station Cherry Point, N.C. The sheer volume of improvement in size and muscle mass came with a price, though.
“All that extra weight wasn’t meant for someone who’s 5-foot-7,” he said.

He was diagnosed with exercise-induced compartment syndrome in his shins. Over the course of the next eight months he had a total of five surgeries. A year of physical therapy followed, during part of which he was confined to a wheelchair. Doctors told him he would probably have a hard time running for the rest of his life.

As he recovered throughout 2006, Bryant received orders to Marine Corps Base Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii. He continued his physical therapy there, and it led to yet another athletic endeavor.

“My physical therapist was into triathlons,” he recalled. “One of the things she did was have me do exercise to build up my ability to do slow runs, and then brought me out with her triathlon group a couple times a week just to get my confidence back up and help me get back running again.”

As he recovered he kept training with the triathlon group. His build changed again, close to his current weight of 168 pounds. He had found a new addiction – endurance sports. Over the next two years, the Marine who had been told he might never again be able to run more than a couple of miles without significant pain would run triathlons, duathlons, and in 2008, the Honolulu Marathon in less than three hours.

“I did everything I could while I was (in Hawaii) to stay in the best shape possible, which I thought was the best shape possible,” he said. “Until I found CrossFit.”

In the gym at the 9th Comm. Bn. compound here, Bryant is ready to begin a workout. He has the day’s routine listed on a board like a menu of suffering: sets of thrusters (a front squat that ends with a shoulder press) mixed with weighted pull-ups. By the end he will have done 72 of each exercise. The ordeal will take him less than 15 minutes, but in that time he says he will pack in more gain than a much longer conventional session at the gym.

This is the idea behind CrossFit - intense bouts of full-body motion exercises, typically centered on Olympic lifts such as cleans, presses and squats. The workouts vary greatly from day to day, and usually don’t take more than 20 minutes to complete for an athlete experienced with the routines and using proper form.

“When I got to Afghanistan in the middle of August I decided I didn’t appreciate the dust when I was running,” said Bryant. “So I needed something else to pique my interest. I’d been introduced to CrossFit a couple of weeks before (I deployed) and the workouts I’d tried had completely demolished me. I thought ‘man, that sucked, I’m never doing this again.’”

After arriving in Afghanistan, however, he found the stage was set for a reunion with the program; someone on a previous deployment had built a makeshift CrossFit pit a stone’s throw from his workspace. Bryant and a handful of other Marines soon put it to use. It was during one of these workouts that his pursuit of the world box jump record began.

“We were doing (a workout) one day, and there was only room for five of us to do box jumps at the same time. We started looking for something else to use and I got the bright idea to try jumping on top of the palcon, which is 40 inches off the ground. After doing a couple more workouts like that my buddy challenged me to see how high I could jump, seeing as to how I’m just a short, white guy.”

To add height in their makeshift gym they began stacking weight plates on top of the palcon. After the total height had reached 48 inches, he and his workout partners were sufficiently impressed to look into the world record. They figured it would be much higher than their own attempts, he said.

“We did a lot of research, and saw it was at 56 inches,” he said. “Once I found that out, I kind of made it my goal to try and break it.”

Bryant registered his attempt with Guinness World Records, and now has a year from last month to set it, he said.

“The hardest thing about jumping on a stack of weights that’s 55 inches tall is that it’s nearly up to my chin when I stand in front of it. I have to focus on a point that looks over the weight so I won’t see what’s in front of me so I won’t get distracted.

“Your shins get demolished from the corner of the palcon,” he said when asked what happens when a jump misses its mark. “You get bruises and bleed. That’s happened three or four times.”

When asked about his obsession with athletic achievement, Bryant points to his past.

“I attribute a lot of it to my father,” he says.

Bryant’s father, Leslie, was a general contractor and small-business owner. He moved his small family around several times before settling in Foxboro, Mass. The constant moving lifestyle had a tough-love effect.

“I was the very stereotypical, made-fun-of little kid,” Bryant recalled. “I was overweight, I had a bowl cut because my parents tortured me with barber shops they thought were cool, I had an overbite, I had to wear headgear.

“I don’t want to say that I do what I do out of drive to prove anything to anybody, I do it to prove it to myself. It’s impressed on you when people pick on you until you can’t do it, so I give a lot of faith to myself and I like to set internal goals for myself to prove I can really accomplish anything I put my mind to.”

School wasn’t the only problem Bryant faced growing up. There were issues at home with his parents. They began getting divorced when he was 14, a process which took almost five years. He spent most of his high school years living with the family of a close friend or his grandmother. A social services caseworker came to the house each week.

“It was something when you’re 16 years old you don’t want to deal with. I ran from it a lot. I didn’t go to school all the time. I never did drugs or drank or anything but it was so much pressure, and it seemed like it was never-ending. So when I made the decision to try and get out, I found the hardest thing I could find, which was the Marine Corps.”

He left for boot camp in July 2002 and, after graduating as the company honor man, was on his way. Still, his upbringing near Boston lingers, sometimes painfully. His father died last year after a stroke ended a battle with brain and lung cancer.

“Literally, with cancer, after getting his leg amputated, after becoming partially paralyzed, the first thing he wanted to do was go back to work,” said Bryant. “He taught me that no job is ever done until you finish it yourself, and you put everything you have into that and you take pride in what you do.”

It’s another day at the 9th Comm. Bn. CrossFit area, and it’s time for another early afternoon workout. This time Bryant has left the compression tights at home. He’s still sore, though. The workout menu du jour includes pull-ups, sit-ups, kettle bell swings, and power cleans. He’ll do 50 repetitions of each exercise, plus a half-mile run. For dessert he does 50 box jumps. He doesn’t build to his max jump height on this day, but by the end the stack of weights he is leaping onto is up to his armpits when he stands next to it.

“One of the reasons I use the (makeshift) gym where I work is because no one else is there,” he reflected. “For me my workouts are borderline embarrassing, because I feel like I have so much improvement to make that just by me keeping it a secret and only working out around maybe one other person I don’t feel the pressure of everyone else around me.

“I’m the guy at the beach who sometimes won’t even take his shirt off.”

Bryant may say he’s humble, but it hasn’t kept him from pursuing the box jump record. His best jump is currently 55 inches; one inch short of the record. Bryant wants to break it cleanly, though, with a leap of at least 57 inches. It should happen sometime in the next two months, he said.

For now he has those last two inches to hold his attention – until another pursuit takes their place

BRAVO ZULU to Petty Officer 1st Class Paul Gomez who receives combat meritorious promotion at Camp Leatherneck, Afghanistan

Petty Officer 1st Class Paul Gomez, command master chief executive assistant, 1st Marine Logistics Group (Forward), shakes hands with Brig. Gen. Charles L. Hudson, commanding general of 1st MLG (FWD), after being promoted to his current rank during a ceremony at Camp Leatherneck, Afghanistan, Jan. 17. Gomez, 32, a native of El Paso, Texas, was combat meritoriously promoted to the rank of petty officer first class

Sailor receives combat meritorious promotion in Afghanistan
Story by Cpl. Shannon McMillan - 1st Marine Logistics Group Public Affairs


CAMP LEATHERNECK, Afghanistan – A sailor from El Paso, Texas was combat meritoriously promoted to the rank of petty officer first class at Camp Leatherneck, Afghanistan, Jan. 17.

During the ceremony, Petty Officer 1st Class Paul Gomez was promoted to his current rank by Brig. Gen. Charles L. Hudson, commanding general, 1st Marine Logistics Group (Forward).

“It was a great honor for him to pin me,” said Gomez, command master chief executive assistant, 1st MLG (FWD). “[It’s] not everyday someone gets pinned by the general.”

He wears his current rank for actions that took place during a combat logistics patrol headed to Forward Operating Base Edinburgh, Nov. 2, 2010. He was on a mission with the Marines who provide security for the 1st MLG (FWD) commanding general, explained Gomez.

During the combat logistics patrol, one of their vehicles was hit by an improvised explosive device. The blast caused one Marine bi-lateral lower leg fractures, and another Marine suffered a grade-three concussion.

Gomez immediately sprang into action providing medical care to his brothers in arms.

“His courageous actions last (November), combined with his sustained superior performance, commitment and solid track record of professionalism through almost 11 years of honorable Naval service made him most deserving of this recognition,” said Master Chief Gerardo M. Ramos, command master chief, 1st MLG (FWD).

Shortly after the incident, Gomez was notified that his command was submitting a package for him to be meritoriously promoted.

“I was surprised because of the competition amongst the other sailors in the unit,” said Gomez, 32.

Gomez was the only sailor from 1st MLG (FWD) to be submitted to the Regional Command (Southwest) board for promotion and once he was selected, he was submitted to compete at the Marine Forces Central Command board.

“The next thing I know the commanding general asking for my presence in his office,” said Gomez, husband of Natasha and father of 3-year-old Ashley. “He was congratulating me for my accomplishments.”

The Marine Forces Central Command only has one Navy quota for combat meritorious promotion to E-6 per quarter and Gomez was selected, said Ramos.

After finding out he was being combat meritoriously promoted, Gomez was overwhelmed with emotion.

“I felt ecstatic and relieved at the same time.” Gomez said. “The anticipation of waiting for the results (of the board) along with being so close to the rank of petty officer first class.”

“It feels great,” said Gomez of his promotion.

Once Gomez finishes his deployment and returns to the United States, he will be in charge of the junior medical and dental sailors of Combat Logistics Regiment 15, 1st Marine Logistics Group, Camp Pendleton, Calif.

“I am excited that I am going to be given the opportunity to teach and guide junior sailors in the vast skills and knowledge I have learned over the years,” said Gomez. “A famous saying that I have used is ‘lead from the front.’”

Gomez, who joined the Navy Jan. 25, 2000, says he feels proud to be a part of an elite military organization and plans on staying in for at least 20 years

“I wanted to come out here to thank you guys personally for all that you do,” Mark Wahlberg visits Camp Leatherneck for Christmas Holiday

Boston Native Mark Wahlberg visits the troops at Camp Leatherneck for a Christmas Holiday.....Good to see the troops got a visit from him.

Glad " the Fighter" could be there for the troops....Kicking around my old stomping grounds.

Mark Wahlberg visits Helmand province
Regional Command Southwest
Story by Lance Cpl. Jeremy Fasci

Mark Wahlberg visits coalition forces aboard Camp Leatherneck, Helmand province, Afghanistan, Dec. 19, 2010.

During his visit, Wahlberg premiered his new movie, "The Fighter" as well as signing autographs and having his picture taken with various service members aboard Camp Leatherneck in support of International Security Assistance Force.

(U.S. Marine Corps photo by Cpl Timothy P. Chesnavage/Released)

CAMP LEATHERNECK, Afghanistan – Service members at Camp Leatherneck, Camp Dwyer and combat outpost Azadi had the met with actor Mark Wahlberg during a holiday visit to Afghanistan, Dec. 19 and 20.

The first trip to Afghanistan by Wahlberg turned into an instant success as service members, the majority of them Marines, jockeyed for the chance to get a picture and autograph. Working twelve-to fifteen-hour days, often 7 days a week, having a celebrity like Wahlberg visit was a welcomed break for service members.

“Everyone was kind of in good spirits looking to get out of the office, go see a movie and get a few hours off of work,” said Staff Sgt. Laura Maguire, current operations chief for I Marine Headquarters Group, I Marine Expeditionary Force (FWD). “It was important for me, I grew up in Jersey and he was a big deal, granted he was from Boston, but he was huge for us, you know Mark Wahlberg, Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch, the Calvin Klein underwear ads. Over the years he turned into a great actor and I just wanted to meet the guy.”

After arriving in Afghanistan Maj. Gen. Richard P. Mills, commander of Regional Command Southwest, met with Wahlberg and spoke to him about the many different things coalition forces are doing in Helmand province to provide security for its people. Once the meeting was done, the group set out to meet and greet as many servicemembers as possible.

During his time at Camp Leatherneck, Wahlberg visited Marines with 1st Marine Division, 1st Marine Logistics Group and 1st Marine Aircraft Wing in front of their respective headquarters compounds. He also met with Marines from the military working dog platoon, the wounded warrior program and servicemembers recovering at the Bastion Hospital. Between the different meetings his new movie, ‘The Fighter,’ was played for large groups at a modified theater set up on Leatherneck.

As the crowds packed into the theater Wahlberg spoke to everyone about his deep appreciation for their efforts and why it was so important for him to come here.

“I wanted to come out here to thank you guys personally for all that you do,” said Wahlberg. “People always want to pat me on the back and tell me how great I am. I am a very humble guy, you guys deserve all the pats on the back and all the thanks in the world.”

For many service members this was the first time they had seen a movie so quickly after it was released since arriving in country nine or ten months ago.

The second day of the trip Wahlberg took a trip to Camp Dwyer. During the visit there was another showing of his new movie and visits to the medical center and wounded warrior area.

Once he was done meeting service members in these locations he pushed out to an even smaller location, COP Azadi in Marjah. Marjah was once one of the most dangerous areas in Helmand province but is now quickly becoming a model for other areas throughout Afghanistan.

Wahlberg met, took pictures with and signed autographs for as many service members as possible and broke up the monotony of everyday life in Afghanistan for coalition forces.

“He was phenomenal, he was really down to earth and soft spoken,” said Maguire. “People were literally grabbing his jacket and tugging on his hand to get his attention to get a picture and he was just cool with it. He literally took the time to sign as many autographs as people wanted and took pictures with everybody. I thought that was pretty cool because a lot of the people that come out here are just here for public appearance and not to meet the troops

“It’s not about me, it’s not about the deployment, it’s about protecting my fellow Marines,” - Sage words from a Marine at Camp Leatherneck...

(Picture Above) Lance Cpl. Kolten Langenwalter, a Base Defense Augmentation Force Marine, fires a MK 19 Mod 3 40mm grenade machine gun during weapons familiarization training aboard Camp Leatherneck, Afghanistan. Each unit aboard Camp Leatherneck augments Marines to support BDAF. Marines from 3rd Marine Aircraft Wing (Forward), such as Langenwalter, serve in aviation support and administration roles and volunteered to deploy to fill BDAF's vital role.

I spent about 4 months living and working with the Marines at Camp Leatherneck in Helmand Province...it was a tough place to be and knew that while I was there, I would be relatively safe as the world's best, the USMC had my back.

The words of Sgt. Steven Satham in the headline of this post says it all....If you have never had the privilege of being with the Marines, I feel sorry as you have missed out on something that is life altering. As a US Navy Seabee, I am NAVY as they come but I have a deep and abiding respect for my Brothers & Sisters in the Marines....They are the best at what they do and who doesn't want to be with a winner ??

SEMPER FI to those who stand the watch at Camp Leatherneck....I do miss it sometimes...not always but sometimes.


Marines prepare to stand watch over Camp Leatherneck -
3rd Marine Aircraft Wing (Fwd) Public Affairs

CAMP LEATHERNECK, Afghanistan – No matter what time of the day or night, a Marine is always standing watch – he is the first line of defense against attacks and protects those under his charge.
Every Marine learns the importance of standing guard and keeping a watchful eye over his fellow Marines. However, approximately 30 Marines from 3rd Marine Aircraft Wing (Forward) have taken these basic skills to the next level and assumed their role as the Base Defense Augmentation Force.

Each unit aboard Camp Leatherneck augments Marines to support BDAF as part of the Camp Leatherneck Security Force. In 3rd MAW (Fwd)’s case, Marines volunteered to deploy for four months to provide the needed support for this vital role.

Their primary mission as the BDAF is to man the perimeter guard towers, gates and main entry points to the base, explained Gunnery Sgt. Matthew Thresher, base defense operations chief for 3rd Battalion, 25th Marine Regiment, which is a reserve infantry unit currently serving as the Camp Leatherneck Security Force.

Before the Marines can take their posts, they must first complete familiarization and live fire training with the weapons used by BDAF.

“The Marines receive classes before live-fire training, which include a breakdown on the characteristics of the different weapons systems,” said Staff Sgt. Patrick Burgess, the range control staff noncommissioned officer with 3/25. “These include the 240B medium weight machine gun, the M2 .50-caliber machine gun and the MK19 Mod3 40mm grenade machine gun. The classes break down the specific mechanics, characteristics, operations and handling procedures of the weapons.”

For some Marines, this is the first time since Marine Combat Training that they have fired these types of weapons.

“I shot [the .50-caliber machine gun] within the last six months, but that is because my shop does a lot of [combat-related] training,” said Sgt. Aaron Getter, an aviation radio repairman currently serving with the BDAF. “It was good to get the refresher training because these Marines are going to need to know how to utilize these weapons.”

Augments, like Getter, come from military occupational specialties such as administration and other aviation support roles that would not otherwise deploy in this capacity.

“It’s not about me, it’s not about the deployment, it’s about protecting my fellow Marines,” said Sgt. Steven Satham, a BDAF Marine.

To help the Marines defend the Camp Leatherneck perimeter, they also receive classes on anti-terrorism/force protection, laws of war, rules of engagement and how to manage access control points.

Though BDAF Marines spend a short time deployed to Afghanistan providing support for base defenses, their responsibility to protect the Afghan and coalition forces residing aboard Camp Leatherneck will remain constant, and the perimeter will always be manned.

And so it goes....

Heading out of Camp Leatherneck, going to Kandahar as part of the process of heading home.....Meanwhile back home, the discussion of the issue of what we will leave to the next generation goes on...Sad to say that the Doofus-in-Charge has no clue as to how the average American worries about what we will pass on to our children as he & his family will be taken care by our tax dollars for the rest of his life....so what's to worry? Like any other Government Hack, he has the " I got mine" state of mind in place....let the little people figure it out for themselves......Marvelous.