Category Archives: About

Three Years of Voluntary Blogitude

If you check out the Archives down near the bottom on the right side of your screen you might notice a big gap between March 2005 and April 2006, between my last attempt to blog about my deployment to Afghanistan and my first effort on this one.  I migrated the old blog posts over here.  I gave up on that one.  Leisure time, sleep deprivation, brain power, give a shit level and internet access limits killed The Kandahar Contract, and constantly threaten this one.  I’m an Infinitesimally Insignificant Microbe in the TTLB Ecosystem with little desire to do what I have to do to evolve further up the evolutionary food chain.  I’m really not cut out to be a blogger.  I’m  not the great writer Cannonette thinks I am. 

I keep at it because I’m hard headed. 

Remember back in 2005 when Newsweek’s agitprop  about fictional flushed Korans fomented fatal riots?  I lived through that.  KAF went Force Protection batshit.  Our Nationals couldn’t come to work.  We got pretty bowed up trying to Charlie Mike without them.  It was already very hot that spring on the edge of the Registan Desert.  Blood – Hold.  Sweat – Check.  Tears – Check.  That event clarified my thinking about Old Media.  When I came home I started this blog.  And I haven’t quit.  And my tiny but elite readership hasn’t quit on me.

I may be the first self-tutored wannabe amateur PSYOP’er on the internet.

Post I Am Most Proud Of:  The Regulars’ RFI On USIA

Top Post According To WordPress:  “Ad Triarios Redisse!”  That was Grimmy’s idea.

Cannonette’s Best Post:  Live From Iraq it’s Indirect Fire!

This coming year you can expect more Afghan Public Protection Force, Logistics, Right to Keep and Bear Arms,  Politically Incorrect Politics, Irregular Warfare, Resilient Community Defense, Military Support to Civil Authorities and less cheer leading for what have now become merely Overseas Contingency Operations. 

I intend to fight The Program.


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The War Lord of Argghhh! was on a panel about milblogging which I just watched.   Sure wish I could have found the transcript!  I can read faster than those guys can talk.  I’ll never get that 1:18:52 back, but there were some nuggets in there, like when and where the next MilBlog Conference will be.  If you want to understand milblogging you ought to watch it. 

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Christmas In The Rear

It’s been three years since I was home for the Holidays.

Soldiers dance in Kandahar Air Base, Afghanistan, during Mark Wills’ performance. U.S. Army photo by Staff Sgt. Reeba Critser.

I was at that show.





KAF Main DFAC was tents back then. I mostly ate at South DFAC.

Still looking for a pic of the TQ Mainside DFAC.





I’m happy to be back in the loving arms of Cannonette this Christmas, but, somehow, I feel out of place.

Merry Christmas, everybody!


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Lending Dignity to what would otherwise be a Vulgar Brawl

Great pics here, pay particular attention to  7 of 90.

Remember.  That’s your mission for today.  


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Watching The Hitler Channel causes Erectile Dysfunction

Cannoneer is in between contracts, so I have been forced –, I mean I want to watch TV with him, so I watch a lot of stuff that I normally would not watch.  History Channel, Military Channel, History Channel International, Discovery Channel.  I normally watch, when I’m not reading, Fox News, BBC America (I love Britcoms),  American Movie Classics — when it’s not John Wayne month), Turner Classic Movies for silly romances and film noir, and Boomerrang for cartoons.  I watch a lot of cartoons — because there is rarely anything worth watching.

So for the last three years I have not had to watch what a man’s man would watch.

Well now I can tell you what channel we are on just by the commercials — on the manly shows I am forced to hear about ED problems until I couldn’t really care less if anyone ever has it.  There are three kinds of ED pills and boy do they flog the  heck out of them.  Also beer is on the Manly Channels along with big expensive autos and meat commercials.

On the Female Channels I see “Boy, are you old, you need this lotion so your man will have sex with you”  — or

“Lord have mercy,  you are so fat you need this diet”

The American advertising industry is driving me nuts with the I’m so old and fat that I need whatever they are selling Chinese water torture. 

Why can’t we drive defeatists nuts with the truth about how well our boys are doing in Iraq and Afghanistan or how we need everyone’s help to keep our hearts and minds open to the possibility of victory?



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Adios, Al Taqaddum

I’m going to the house. 

I will miss TQ.  Hard to explain why.  It can be an aggravating place.  Beautiful sunrises, though.  I am thinking seriously of moving out West.  The desert agrees with me.

It was my honor to live and work alongside some fine Marines.  I am a better man for it. 

I haven’t blogged much about TQ.  Maybe I will start.  Others have done a better job of describing this place than I could.  OPSEC means I haven’t identified people I work with, or where I work, or what I do.  This blog was never meant to be all about me, or my travels.

For me, the war is not over.  I am just redeploying from the Iraq Theater of Operations to the Zone of the Interior.

School of the Counterpropagandist will start back up when I get home.

I wrote the above last night in Kuwait.  This is what I wrote yesterday:

 I am sitting in the waiting shed at the TQ Joint Air Cargo Operations Terminal, typing this on Cannonette’s laptop that I brought back with me.  I have been here many times before.  They have some new blue seats in here, now.  Big improvement over metal folding chairs.  Last time I flew out of here I hung out with J.D. Johannes of Outside The Wire and Gene Blanton of The Fourth Rail.  I was stuck here for hours with them and never said a word, because I didn’t know who they were.  I finally recognized Gene on the C-130, but by then conversation had to be shouted over the engine noise.  A picture of him at a feasting on goat  clicked in my brain and I nudged his knee and hollered “Don’t you write for the Fourth Rail?”  He smiled and nodded.  We three conversed down at Ali Al Salem while we waited for our baggage pallet to show up.  Good guys, both of them.

Lots of citizen journalist New Media embeds on the way out.  That’s good.  Send money.  Money talks.  Comments on blogs are cheap.  Sending embeds out here isn’t.

In a few hours there will be one less blogger in Al Anbar.  I haven’t really blogged that much about my personal experiences out here.  I haven’t discussed my job, or the people I work with, or the things I’ve seen.  That was never the purpose of this blog.  It wasn’t supposed to be all about me.  My contribution to the war effort has been honorable, and I am proud to have been accepted by some fine Marines, but I just don’t have the war stories some people do.  I haven’t suffered the hardships, seen the horrendous sights, watched buddies die.  I’ve been rocketed and mortared.  Indirect fire and ambushed convoys which reduce the variety of fodder in the DFAC are about the only things the bad guys have ever done to me.  The bad guys have always been a minor irritant to me, safely ensconced behind the wire, surrounded by Hesco bastions and blast walls.  The enemy rarely manages to annoy me nearly as much as the friendlies.  Too many people standing in line waiting for too few of whatever it is we are patiently waiting our turn at.   Met some truly outstanding young Americans standing in lines.  So many Americans just have no concept of the high quality humans serving in the military.  It has been my honor to be alongside them.I’m moving back in with Cannonette.  I want to come home to her every night.

UPDATE:  I’m back in the world.  The lovely and talented Cannonette welcomed me in our traditional fashion and now she is asleep behind me.  Should have another lesson of the School of the Counterpropagandist up by Tuesday. 


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Well Here I Go Again

Today was another one of my SCARY days.  Cannoneer’s  FOB was in the news.  5 people were killed when a helo went down.  I know this sound so very crude and unrefined, But DAMN!!! I almost messed my panties today.  I had just got home from helping my girlfriend at her store, came in dropped my purse on our bed and was changing into my Jammies, I hate to wear un-comfy clothes at home.  As I was pulling my jeans off an Alert came across Fox News ( I leave it on all day so I can keep up with what’s going on) as I fell to the floor I tried very hard to keep my wits about me so I could hear what was being said.   After hearing what was on I went to the computer to see if I could get anymore info… Nothing was there, No E mail from Cannoneer  or any info about the FOB.  So here I sit at the computer waiting to hear from him.  I am pretty sure the phones and computers are cut off and he’ll call me when he can.  I know in my heart he’s fine and I’m not freaking out as bad as I usually do?  Does that mean I’m getting use to all this?  I feel so scared most of the time for the safety of my Boys, The other Boys are safe in the rear for now but what can I do other than pray for everyones saftey.  I have yet to hear from Cannoneer, I feel he’s alright, I would feel a disturbance in the Force if he wasn’t,  but still there is a nasty little voice in my head telling me all the things that could go wrong over there.

I know there are other people out there going through this too.  I pray for all of you and all our families who are doing what they feel is the right thing to do. And today 5 families lost someone they care about dearly so lets all say a prayer for them.


Update:  I’ve heard from Cannoneer today and he’s fine and doing well!

Thanks  your prayers and well wishes!

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How I spent My Summer Vaction

Cannoneer  and I were on R&R.   We spent some very good quaility time together.  God!  I missed him!  He has been in Afghanistan or Iraq for 27 of the last 34 months.  He has taken me to England, Thailand, and Colorado.    I’m so grateful for the R&R’s.  They make doing this a lot easier.  They are just so very short. He has been in transit and his cell phone doesn’t work in Anbar Province, so when he called yesterday I was so excited to hear from him, but I thought I heard another big BOOM ( Live from Iraq it’s Indirect Fire; 26 Feburary2007) .  My heart only stopped for a few seconds this time. He was on the email within minutes to tell me that we had just got cut off, not incoming.  Big relief! We chatted for a while then he went to get ready for work.  He calls me after his breakfast and we try to keep our lives as normal as possible.  The problem is I have a good idea of what really goes on there, being an Army brat and hearing war stories since I can remember, then being an Army wife durning all the problems our world has had since 1980 I have a very fertile imagination.  Which is not very helpful when you are trying to live with the knowledge that all your Boys ( husband and 3 sons) are in harms way.  

Right now, today, everyone I love and care about is safe and well.  Thank you God for all your blessings!  I pray constantly for everyone in harms way.  It’s how I get through the day.  It’s so very hard to do this without some kind of faith in a higher being.


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It’s Good To Be Missed

More people noticed my absence than I thought would. I have let this blog slide, but I have been totally fixated on R&R, either fantasizing about taking it, going to it, enjoying it, or coming back from it. The lovely and talented Cannonette adjusted my attitude, cured my testosterone poisoning, and restored my depleted stock of joy and happiness as we enthusiastically celebrated our release from celibacy. We took a road trip to the Rockies, just the two of us. The price of gas in the States is outrageous. And yet there are people running around saying this is a war for oil. Listened to a lot of talk radio while driving. I used to listen to Neal and Rush and Sean all day, but they aren’t easy to get out here, so I had forgotten what demogogues they were. Sean and Rush demonstrated the power of talk radio in the killing of the amnesty bill. Too bad the talkers can’t whip up the same outrage over the upcoming stab in the back in Iraq. Out here in Anbar, the war is going fairly well. You know how I know? The incoming doesn’t come in anymore. The Retrograde Yard has fewer destroyed vehicles in it. There are fewer helos dropping off casualties. Things are getting better where I’m at. I’m winning my part of the war. The people around me are winning their part of the war. There are successes all over this country, but, back in the rear, one Aw, Shit erases 100 Attaboys, and all al Qaeda has to do is set off a bomb and the NYT/WAPO/LAT/CNN/PMSNBC/ABC/NBC/SeeBS branches of al Jazeerah wail and gnash their teeth about how we can’t win, we’re in a quagmire, the Surge has failed, we must cut & run, yadda, yadda, et cetera, et cetera, yessir, yessir three bags full. And way too many of my fellow Americans are ready to pull the plug on us. Us’ns out here are winning our part of the war, but y’all in the rear are letting us down. Y’all ain’t doing YOUR part to resist the enemy propaganda. Y’all ain’t doing YOUR part to hold defeatists accountable for their treachery. Y’all ain’t doing YOUR part in providing our leadership with some FOLLOWERSHIP!

Yeah, I know. It’s all Bush’s fault. Keep telling yourself that.

It’s 116 degrees Farhenheit. You think I sound cranky?

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What I Saw Looking Out the Hole Where the Window Used To Be

I escaped my penal colony for awhile, on a business trip to the big city, and got to ride from BIAP to Balad on a Blackhawk, in the daylight, which is a new experience for me. I had been doing all my flying in the dark and rarely saw what was out there. It’s hot already, and even with the windows down (out altogether, actually) and 130 knots blowing, it’s still hot.

The door gunners searched for targets, but the guns weren’t needed that trip. Mookie Sadr had come back and VBC was on alert and we were ready for trouble, but the only trouble I had was keeping my lunch. Nap Of the Earth, they call it. I did alright until one window was full of blue sky and the other was full of brown dirt. Rotary wing aerobatics.

Parts of Iraq are nice and green. Date groves look like pleasant oasis compared to the desert in Anbar Province. Greenery, water, houses and trash. Some of the houses are tumbledown adobes, but some of them look like Italian Riviera beach houses that would be nice if they would clean up the yard and stucco the cracks. Junked cars, trucks, buses, tractors; if grass would grow they would probably lose transmissions in the yard. I have in-laws like that.

War can be boring. Uneventful flight over a peaceful countryside. No pillars of smoke on the horizon. No signs of a war except for the door guns and the M-4’s the sailors with me carried.

Don’t eat lunch before you fly Catfish Air. Trust me.


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Happy Mothers Day

.  I wrote this note to my Mother -in- law today, as I re-read it to check spelling errors and for well language a nice middle class woman should not use.  It dawned on me this letter is for everyone.  I’m so upset about how Congress is messing around with the money to fund our troops I could scream, and I have screamed but it does no good.  Why are there so many people in our country so hell bent on losing this war!  We are winning!  But the crazy lefties who blame Bush for everything from global warming to their broken finger nail  and the do nothing  Congress who are so afraid of not getting re-elected are losing it for us.  What do our troops have to do to get the American people to get of their butts, out of the mall and speak out for the troops.

I’m just one wife and mother of 4 Men (I call them my boys) who are or have gone to war for our country.   I can’t do this on my own.  We as Americans should say to Congress.  Stop fighting about your pork barrel treats and give the money to our troops NOW!

Happy Mothers day Mom!

Hope you are having a good  today. 

I just got back from DC on Tuesday.  I went to DC to talk to some people about getting Congress off its, Well lets just say Butt to get funds to our troops.  Our Boys are in Iraq, Cannoneer No3 only stays 3 months on and 3 month off.  My second son will be coming home soon and My oldest son is just back the last couple of weeks.  I don’t know how much longer our troops can go without the things they need.  Congress is just really pushing this way to far.  I’m sending you a video a 15 year old girl made, I cried for 2 hours.
 I wish I could send it to everyone but I just don’t have their email address.  What Our Boys are doing is so important to keeping our country free of crazies, who truly believe we the American people are the devils.  I hope you get a chance to look at the video.  My family is fighting this war to keep us from ever having to have another 9/11.  I can’t let their efforts go for nothing,  I’m sorry if this up set you.  I need the world to know that what My family is doing to keep American from turning into a waste land of fear and degradation.

I love you both and know you support Our Boys

Please forgive me for upsetting you. if I have.  I’m so upset that there are so many people who hate my boys for what they feel is the right thing to do.

Thanks for listening to me

Love you



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Why Cannonette Blogs

We all have our reasons.  Some need to get the word out, some need to hear that their views are shared by others, some just need to hear their own voice.  Some people just love to talk, but I blog because someone I care about can’t.  I really don’t like to blog because I feel that my skills are sorely lacking, and who in the world wants to hear another voice that is only sharing her opinion?  I blog for my Darling Husband, (that embarrasses him when the world knows my pet names for him) he is such a talented writer, (I’ve been reading his stuff for years),  he writes so vividly, he has had short stories written,  news letters and all kinds of Blogs and articles.   He is just very talented.  He and my children are very verbal and,  well,  lets just put it simply:  they’re “Shit-house Lawyers.”  I’m sure many of you out there have one of those at home.   Lucky me,  I married one then bred 4 more just like him.  Me, I can’t argue myself out of a wet paper bag.   Hell,  my Dog (Ivan the Terrier, a ratty) argues with me and wins, so you can see why I ask the question “who is going to listen to what I have to say?”

Well Cannoneer No. 4 wants me to go the MilBlog Conference.  I’m going,  but I’m going for him and a chance to see DC in the spring,  too.  I am not comfortable speaking to large groups.   Oh I can talk to a group of 10 or 15 but anything larger and I start to hyperventilate.  But I do feel the need to share my feelings; on how I feel the war is going and how it breaks my heart that so many people just don’t seem to care that our troops there need everyone’s support and how the MSM is so Bush-deranged they can’t see the forest for the trees.  Maybe while there I can learn how others are dealing with this and see if I can pick up some ways to help with the situation.  I just know that if we the unwashed masses don’t get it together we are going to lose this war.   Not on the ground but in the newspapers and TV because these people are really that mean and hateful when it comes to anything Bush does or says.

It’s so important that “WE” the people, counter all the negative information that  The Taliban, Al Queada and the MSM are putting out there.  We have to let our fellow countrymen know that all that they read and see on TV  is not necessarily true.

How can we do this?  By talking to people, Blogging, by finding stories that the bad guys are putting out and proving them false.  We can do this!  Our military can’t.   It’s against the law (Smith-Mundt Act of 1948 ) for our military to conduct counter – propaganda here in the States. 

This war is fought on so many levels.  We can help our troops my waging our own counter-propaganda here in the states.  Smith-Mundt doesn’t apply to us.  Democrat Senators can’t deny us promotion.  The House Armed Services Committtee can’t defund our program.   We’re irregulars, and we do this on our own time, for free.

We just need to get the truth out there so the people can judge for themselves.    If we don’t help solve this problem the bad guys are going to win. 



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Live From Iraq it’s Indirect Fire!

The other day Cannoneer No. 4 called me, as he usually does. He tries to call me once a day to reassure me that he is doing fine. While we were talking I kept hearing Boom! Boom! This happens every now and then from the GIs blowing up stuff (EOD Controlled Detonation — #4) so over the years of hearing from him I have learned to ignore them (not really, I just don’t freak out like I use to!) Stuff happens and the GIs have to blow it up!

Well, while we were talking the noise got louder, then I hear people yelling “In coming!” and Cannoneer telling me, “Baby, I have to go we’re getting blown up.” As he was hanging up I could hear people running, stuff falling and sirens whaling. The phone goes dead! God! I’m so scared! What do I do? I prayed, that was the first thing I did. I lit candles, that was the second thing I did. Third I collapsed on a chair and tried very hard to keep the ” bad” things from running rampant in my head, no use there here, is he dead? Is he hurt? God? What do I do if my baby dies? I can’t think like this. OK! He’s alright I know he’s alright, OK, breathe, breathe, in, out, in, out, deep breathe my puppy is looking scared he keeps trying to lick my tears away. I will not break down I will not break down. OK! Deep breathe, now, he’s fine. I would know some how I would know if he was hurt or dead, and I don’t feel that he’s hurt or dead, God? what do I do? I can’t live with out him! this hurts to bad. I cry trying very hard to keep my wits about me, thinking My sweetie is fine I know he’s fine we can handle this, if he hurt I will just nurse him back that’s all “Please God, take care of my baby, I can’t live without him” I keep saying this over and over in my head! All the things that can go wrong have gone through my head is he hurt, legs blown off, arms blown off, does he have a gut wound every imaginable horrible thing that could happen to him has gone through my head, but I fight the bad thoughts I know he’s fine, he’s just trying to get to his men and make sure they are safe. Then he has to go call HQ and tell them all men are accounted for he’s fine, he’s fine, I know he’s fine! I’m so scared I will lose him. OK! I can do this repeat after me He’s fine! So this mantra goes through my head the remainder of the time it takes him to call me back. 25 minutes have passed. The phone rings, it’s my special ring tone for him! He’s alright!!! I answer, I hear, “I’m fine my men are fine can’t talk right now. Stop worrying I’m alive. I love you, got to go Bye Baby!”. Phone goes dead again but this time I just sit and cry! Relief folds all over me. I was worried for nothing, again.

This is the 4th time I have gone through this hell! And each time I worry like crazy, then minutes, hours or even weeks later I hear from him. The first time this happened it took almost a week for him to call me back , the second time hours and the third days now this time 25 minutes. After about 30 minutes I calm down and go take a shower to wash all the badness off me. That’s how I cleanse myself of all the bad things I have to deal with from time to time. Each day I light candles and pray for my husband and my sons who are in harms way.

This how I handle my fear of what could happen to the men I love.

Each family does something to live with the fear of losing their loved ones. It’s very scary, but my guy is happy to be there and doing what he feels is good and right to keep our world free from the crazies who would love to come to middle America and blow the hell out of it. They would love to kill little Mrs. America and her children to put fear in all our hearts so we can’t function and get on with our work and keep our economy running. The bad guys would love it if we all were going through what I went through every second of everyday. I go through it, so someone else does not have too. I know it sounds silly or crazy but those few minutes of total terror I experienced meant that some one else did not have to do it. And I would go through that god awful terror again if I knew no one else would have to do go through it.

I’m so scared that the MSM is belittling what our guys and gals do to keep them and all of us free from the crazies. The Left-wing nuts keep going on and on about how Bush lied about______, fill in the blank, you name it its Bush’s fault. What they don’t seem to understand is that if our guys weren’t doing this hard, very lonely job, we here in the States would be fighting the crazies in our front yards, in our malls and in our schools.


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Happy Anniversary, Baby

The lovely and talented Cannonette was recruited into my gun detachment  28 years ago.   She is the only member of the detachment I had to recruit.  The rest were bred for the position.  Good times, bad times, sickness, health, unaccompanied tours, she has stuck through it all. 

I read Long Iraq Tours Can Make Home a Trying Front,  and I gave thanks to God that Cannonette is Semper Fidelis. 

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I Hate Pain. It Hurts!

A Marine I raised said that in 1982 and his mother has been saying it ever since.  She has had more than her share of it.  It has robbed her of many good times.  She was bed-ridden and wheelchair bound for several years because of it.  She has borne it better than I would.   I’m no stranger to pain myself, but I’ve never experienced pain like she deals with daily.  Pain for me is a temporary impediment to be endured or treated and then I’m good to go.  Nobody out here is particularly interested in hearing about my pain.  I suffer in silence until I can get to a phone and call home for sympathy.  She is the most sympathetic woman on the face of the Earth.  Nobody can say “Poor Baby!”  and sound like she means it like her.  Her advice and sympathy are the only health care I get out here.  My contract doesn’t entitle me to any care from the military except to stabilize me for evacuation.  If I ain’t fixin’ to lose an eye, a limb, or my life, then I’m just another f’n civilian interrupting their Xbox game.  I’ve had some recent experiences with pain myself.  It makes me really, really lonely and homesick for TLC.

Pain for her is a constant presence.  A good day means she can function, exercise the higher thought processes of the cerebral cortex, and smile.  A bad day means she can’t do those things.

She has a little yappy dog that pisses on the floor and barks it’s head off all the damn time, but this little rat terrier can do no wrong, unless he runs out into the street, because he sits on her body when she’s hurting and absorbs some of the pain.  He absorbs so much sometimes that he can barely move himself for hours at a time.   That’s devotion!

She has some pretty serious pain pills.  She has it within her power to end her pain forever.   She even cheats herself of normal dosage, and endures the pain, so she can manage it and be bright and cheery and fun when I get R&R.  She endures, and suffers, and hoards pills so as to be at her best for me.  That’s devotion!

Today she had a procedure done.  It was very painful.  I wasn’t there for her.  That hurts, too.

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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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