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Veterans’ Tales by Allen Ness

20 AUG 03

Uncle Hank,

We’ve been busy since I wrote last.  We ran a couple missions into Fallujah, what a shithole.  We were security for the Battalion Commander, which means we were way too far from what was really going on but we got to hear about it on the radio.  What utter bullshit.  We also had to watch our Battalion CSM sleep in his vehicle like the huge turd he is.  The men of 1Panther call him “Deebo” like the character from “Friday.”  He’s a turd that won’t flush.  Sarnt Spear sayz “I won’t badmouth my superiors.”  But sayin that means he ain’t got nothin good to say, he’s just bein as politically correct as he can be.  He ain’t got a thimble full of politically correct in ‘im, trust me.

We got attached to Delta Company a few days ago, one section and two platoons of Delta are west of the Euphrates guarding some nuclear radio-active shit.  We’re about 30 klicks from Bn HQ, Sarnt Spear seems pretty happy about it.  It’s primitive as hell, we sleep under camo nets and eat MRE’s three times a day but I guess it could be worse.  We relieved a team from the Third ID, the whiners.  They’ve got burn barrel shitters here but we’ve already figured out how to replace the graffiti with something “tasteful” so Sarnt Spear won’t be any more pissed off than usual.  Third ID are some pitiful whiners, them bitches cry about everything.  I’m glad I’m a Paratrooper and not one of them dirty nasty, whinin legs[…]

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