Lawrence V

One memory of Iraq: December 2004

Posted in My Iraq history, Uncategorized, Writings by Larry on February 6, 2009

The Day Seven Died

On one day in mid December we got called out of the base to back up a Bradley fighting vehicle that was attacked. One of ours. The story over the radio didn’t say much, but did imply that the seven man crew were killed in a large roadside explosion. Bradley’s were always the iron work horse of the company, needless to say we were pretty intimidated. Upon arrival the soldiers buzzed about. We parked on the far road and watched the horizon while non-combatmen cleaned up the leftovers. I remember seeing a five hundred pound tread in front of us making a donut in the sand. It had blown over a hundred yards in the blast.

Sitting in a gun turret can get boring. It sounds hard to believe, but it happened quite often. Sitting and dsc01882staring, waiting on that contradiction; of the inevitable that never happens. My eye lids slid down until I was peering through my prison-bar lashes. My mind started to drift when the radio crackled and broke drifting daze. The radioman spoke of hounds, wild and vicious starting to devour the body parts of our fallen friends. 

“Shoot on sight,” the radioman order. The boredom was zapped. A game started up of sniping dogs. I remember Auturi hit one dead from a hundred and fifty yards moving- an impressive feat. We later disembarked and were sent with black bags to pick up the pieces of the fallen soldiers. The game continued into this new task as well since the smell of flesh continued to attract wild dogs. Joe fired twice and clipped a dusty tan mutt in the neck. It panicked and frantically licked it’s wound until the surety of death washed over it. The week before a man in a gray t-shirt was shot and he pressed his two hands hard to his entry wound and wandered around in a panicked. Neither said much; both acted the same man and dog. I felt a rising in my stomach at the sight of the dog’s “old man like” like behavior. But it wasn’t the dog that burned into my memory that day, it was the filling of the black bag. I filled mine a quarter of the way, much less then the others. I remember only reaching out for one large fleshy piece. A  butterscotch porterhouse steak. It oozed like ice melting in the sun. My stomach was fine while I placed it in my bag. 

I never knew the name of the soldier it belonged to. To have it leave such an impression and to never know who it belonged to is shameful. 😦

Advertisements

Iraq Photographs

Posted in My Iraq history by Larry on June 2, 2008

I will be posting various Iraq photos I have, but I would like to comment on each one so it will take awhile before I have all my photos up. I have hundreds. (more…)