Monthly Archives: July 2006

Trouble in River City

When somebody gets killed in Anbar Province, the Marines make sure that the next of kin hear about it from official sources.  They institute a communications black out known as River City, which cuts off the SPAWAR and AT&T telephones and internet access.  That, and numerous other reasons, (or excuses, if you’d rather), have resulted in a much reduced output of content on this blog.

I started this blog last April with a mission .  I wanted to provide a forum for interested citizen volunteers to explore ways in which the blogosphere and free speech could be used to help the official Information Operations and Public Affairs establishments in countering psychological operations conducted against the American people by terrorist organizations and their sympathizers in the Western media.  I felt then and still feel that the good guys need help with this, and that free Americans citizens exercising their First Amendment rights, not subject to retribution by political masters,  not worried about being called before Congressional committees, unconcerned about promotions being blocked by vengeful politicians in and out of uniform, and unconstrained by political correctness could do for the good guys what the good guys are not allowed to do for themselves.

I am no longer in a position to provide much of a contribution towards that endeavor.  My spare time, internet access, and mental energy are not up to the task of providing content for a readership.  I didn’t come out here to be a blogger.  My readership is so small now that I have remained under the radar,  and that is the best place for me to be right now.  Nobody has told me I couldn’t blog,  but the demands of OPSEC and my own desire for anonymity out here leave me with few innocuous subjects to blog about.  I myself am now subject to many of the same impediments this blog was created to get around.

I’m not going to pull the plug totally on this blog.  The muse may strike and I may write, or not.  The blogroll is still good.  I’d like to thank Starling David Hunter and Harold C. Hutchison  for providing me with the idea and inspiration to blog again.  This is my third attempt as a blogger and probably not my last.  I’ll be in between contracts again some day.  To all the milbloggers blogging from theater,  keep up the good work. 

I’d like to express my appreciation to all who have commented on this blog, and appeal to any readers who may wish to post original content on media bias, milblogging, the Jihadi War, public affairs and information operations, or any other topic that fits here, to contact the lovely and talented Cannonette about posting here.

Check this blog a coupla times a month.  You might find something you like.



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Sunday Dinner in a DFAC in Iraq

The main chow hall at TQ is the biggest building here, bigger even than aircraft hangars.  It is the land mark I use for navigation on my journeys around this place.  What makes this building so distinctive is the mortar roof.  The mortar roof catches and detonates and absorbs the blast of any mortar rounds that might hit the DFAC so that the diners don’t have to.  Mortar attacks apparently are not an uncommon occurrence here, but the whole place is Hescoed and T-walled and unless you are the poor dumb bastard walking underneath mortar rounds you’ll be OK.  No rockets lately.  I’d rather be rocketed than mortared.  Getting hurt by a rocket is just plain bad luck.  Somebody aims mortars.  Indirect fire is about all us Fobbits have to worry about, unless a suicide bomber gets in.  But here on Tattooine we have everything under control.  Outside the wire the Jawas can get you.

So anyway, I’m sitting in the chow hall finishing my meal and wondering what to blog about and watching the multitude of humanity getting food, eating it, and leaving, and I thinks to me self:  “Self,” says I, “why don’t you blog about the DFAC?”  So here are some observations and ruminations, in no particular order:

Marines have issues with hair.  Not all, but the ones with the Gumby haircuts.  White sidewalls up to the top of the head, then a patch of inch long black Bermuda grass growing out of their scalp.  Who told them that looked cool? 

Where are all the blonde Marine chicks?  Miss Clairol doesn’t work for them? 

If an ass looks good in desert digital cammies, it must be a nice ass.

The DCU is dying out.  The Air Force still wears them until they can start issuing their new tiger stripe clown suit. Some sailors still wear DCU’s.  Most around here wear the desert digital cammies.  Sailors wear funny silver badges pinned to their chests. 

Still a few soldiers at ex-FOB Ridgeway (the Marines had to rename this place), nearly all in ACU’s, so this DFAC presents a multi-uniformed appearence to go with the diversity in the civilian work force.  More on that in another post.  I have overstayed my time limit on this MWR computer, and will have to leave and come back another time.


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So here we are at Taqaddum, the garden spot of Anbar Province.  Big place, as in spread out and a long walk to get anywhere.  A sandy moonscape of a place with barbed wire and Hesco bastions and SWA huts and trailers interspersed with what must have been Iraqi Air Force buildings.  I live in a “can,” a rectangular gray container one bunk wide and 3 bunks long.  The AC works just fine, and the “can” doesn’t flap in the wind like my tent in Afghanistan did.  No Green Beans Coffee shop, no Burger King, no Subway, no Pizza Hut, no Cinnabon, no Popeye’s.  The jarheads out here don’t go for that pogey bait.  Decent chow hall.  Adequate PX.  Good MWR Internet Cafe.  I reckon I’ll get used to this place.

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This thing will wear your ass OUT!

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Oh Well!

I called the FBI as one of my comments had suggested ( Michael, Thank you! It was very kind of you to care about what is going on.) I felt like I was getting a pat on the head.  That’s how I felt when I reported what I saw in London last year to them.  So what’s a girl to do?

I’m not scared or terrorized by those silly boys!  I just felt like I was really bothering the FBI. I have not heard from the crazies since the 4th. So maybe I scared them off?

Cannoneer is now at his duty station.  He had to travel for 2 days to get there.  He’s trying to get his bearings.  He’s living in what he described as a “Can” it looks like a carrier that you see on the back of trains or trucks.  It has 2 bunks in it and that’s about it.  I hope he gets to live in it by himself, it sound kinda small to me!

Thank you to all those who are praying for him and our troops.  I truly appreciate your love and concern.



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What a 4th I’ve had!

As y’all know Cannoneer No. 4 is at Camp Victory.  He’s been calling me about 3 or 4 times a day to keep me up on the latest Goat Fornications.  Well today after our 1st call of the day,  4th of July morning for me, I received a phone call from some very strange sounding people, I’m guessing it was some wannabe terrorist.  There was a main voice (male)sounding like he was trying to speak very bad French Arab mix, the only thing I could understand was the word American, and (sorry! I’m not sure if I’m spelling these words right) Shim Allah. There were voices in the back ground, sounded like 3 or 4 other people there, all male voices. Well these Dip Wads called me a total of 7 times.  And basically saying the same thing over and over.

On the last phone call from these lovely people, I finally spoke English to them, (I spoke French, German, Italian and pig Latin during the other phone calls) I asked them to hold on please, the Air Force was trying to get a triangulation on them so they could bomb them! The silly boys just hung up on me.  How very rude!

If they call again I’m going to record their voices (my daughter taught me how to do that on our cell phones) and I guess I should contact the FBI or someone, I’m not really sure who to contact.  During the bombing in London last year I gave a statement to the FBI but I haven’t heard anything since.  I really don’t know who to contact.  I’ll have to look into it!

These people have no idea who they’re messing with, I’ve had to deal with General’s and Colonel’s wives who thought they wore the rank.  These people are pikers in comparison. I’m a strong American woman who was raised in the military.  These boys don’t know who there messing with!


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I made it.  I’m at Camp Victory, Baghdad, Iraq.  Helluva place.  Huge conglomeration of tents, trailers, and some real buildings scattered all over the place.  There are three other camps, Slayer, Liberty and Stryker, but I can’t tell where one camp ends and the next one begins.  Hard to make sense of this place.  Gigantic PX at Liberty.  Enough pouches and holsters and sheaths and tactical stuff to warm the cockles of the most covetous gear whore’s heart.  Had ribs for Independence Day lunch at the Sports Oasis Dining Facility.  Biggest chow hall I have ever seen in my life. 

Probably be here about a week or so, then on to my final destination.  I’m glad I made the trip. 

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