CoInSide: December 2007

Monday, December 17, 2007

Recon Marine Brent Morel Remembered

There is a book about to be written by Richard S. Lowrey. He has written two others and established his self as a "get it right author" unlike others I have commented on within these pages. The book will be about the Fight for Fallujah which was unknown to most until some government contractors were kidnapped and strung up. Shortly after this incident a Recon team was tasked with drawing out the enemy- guinea pigs to you and me. It was April of 2004, the chronologies I see for the fight usually begin around November of that year. Recon being Recon I guess.

Capt. Brent Morel led this Marine Recon team. On that date he was the only KIA and most of his Marines credit his actions for allowing them to fight another day. "Dismount! Dismount Gawdammit!" These were his words. They went to the enemy and destroyed them.

Below is a paragraph pulled from the memorial website that you can find if you look hard enough. I removed the name of the Marine that wrote it because I think in part it was written as a means of theraputic healing. I only want to share the words.

Just over two years ago we were traveling down a silent street that should have been busy with workers and other travelers. You came over the radio to dismount our humvees and sweep the streets. We did so and then you told us to mount up. The area was very odd and quite and we knew something was about to go down. Sure enough less than five minuets later all hell broke out. I remember my team yelling "contact right","contact right", but at the same time we had contact left. I shot my M-4 at men running with weapons and launched 40mm gernades in buildings with muzzel flashes. Soon TM 2-3 dismounted to follow you to the more aggressive side. I could see you running to first berm and myself and the radio operator ran the same direction but a bit right, since we were receiving fire from all along the berm. That is when I lost sight of you. So me and the radio operator of TM2-3 tried to crest the first berm. We couldn't! A machine gun nest with three insurgents were firing at us. My radio operator with a M249 parasaw had been shot in the gun and now his gun was not operational. So I shot 40mm gernades at them. We were finally able to jump the first berm to only realize that my radio operator disappeared. I was alone and had to cross a deep canel and realize that an RPG was fired at me, but they missed. Once I passed the canel and crossed the second berm, that is when I saw you and ran to you. You may have not saw me, but I saw you. I had to clear a another machine gun nest before I reached you. By the time I reached you when you were only 10 feet away from you, you fell like a sack a patatos. That is when I notice you were shot and shot by an insurgent only feet from our postion. I shot him! Then I drop my weapon and my jaw as I looked into your eyes. You were stil speaking, but very little and small words. At that moment we had help from three other brothers from our platoon. You know who they are. They helped me undress you and plug your wounds. Tell you want Brent. That underarmor shirt you were wearing didn't help with the process either. My K-bar which I lost too did not cut your clothes. What did was my Gerber knife. Once I had the help of another Marine holding you, I was able to use my med-kit on you since I could not locate yours. That is ok, because that is why were brothers in ways others will never know. Once I used my med-kit on you I had to also use another Marines med-kit. This is because you were hurting pretty bad. I'm sure you remember, you had more than one hole in you. The first was under your armpit that exited out your lower back. I yelled like crazy for a corpsman and a medivac. I remember you looking into my eyes the whole time. I truly remember some of your last words. "Get me out of here before I die". I often think about those words and my actions. What else could I have done. I worked as fast as I could. I even carried you with the help of another. By the way Brent, you were heavy. Then again I'm only 5'7 and weight about 165 at the time. But I was able to carry you to a safer postion. The five men including yourself will truly know how hard we worked to get you out. I wish I could have done something better to get you home alive.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Mitchell Report Casts First Stone

The powers that be unfurled a list of MLB players who allegedly cheated to get where they are. There will be well crafted retorts and counteraccusations. It reminds me of the public's take on law enforcement which is basically, Do everything necessary to protect me- but don't get caught.

Like the strike of 1994, this will no doubt bring on a whole new crop of dissenters who will "Never watch another game" to which I say - Good riddence. I didn't like your 1/2 commited ass in the seat next to mine anyway. I see you out there trying to make baseball more like football. You stood and cheered for strike three on an 0-2 count where 90% of the time the pitch is wasted. You acted like it meant something when the opposing pitcher was struck out with your team behind by 5. You came to the game wearking the visiting team's colors and made a scene merely for the jackass affect.

The sports talk airwaves will be filled with bile comments about how the game was long suspect and guess what-so too will the seats be filled this spring in Florida and Arizona. Weeks later stadiums will be filled and there will be dissenters among the crowd who will hiss and boo the alleged villain, but there numbers will have shrunk. For this the rest of us are thankful.

Asterisk or not-who that knows gives a damn? It's about what happens next. Stupidity it is said is doing the same thing and expecting a different result. But that's what we do, every fourth day we send out the same guy, backed by the same guys and expect something good. We hol up those wo succeed three of ten times like no other game. We deal with the failure of our guys those other seven or eight at bats. And it's when that guy is only fruitful in one of ten attempts we say- Maybe he should try something different.