Letter From a Fallujah Marine:

It was reported by an imbedded dead weight reporter from NBC Monday, November 15, 2004 that a Marine assisted a terrorist in his quest for 72 vestal virgins. I say, “Good job Jarhead!” I understand that just before the Marines entered the Mosque where the terrorists were illegally fighting in civilian dress and illegally using a sacred Mosque as a firing position, they had experienced these terrorists feigning death and then shooting Marines. This is also against the laws of land warfare. We will probably hear all the libs crying in their soup about how awful and brutish the Marine Corps is. This is exactly how we want our Marines to act and most decidedly, there is no place in combat for weakness. With the exception of “Toys for Tots” and having a great band, the Marine Corps is equipped and trained for two things: to break things and to kill people. They have been doing this with superb military precision since November 10, 1775. The Marine rifleman’s primary mission is: “To seek out, close with and destroy the enemy by superior fire power and maneuver.” The Marine under investigation had just returned to duty as he had been shot in the face the previous day.
Before you condemn this hard chargin’ devil dog for being a tad over aggressive, you may want to weigh all the facts including:

These are terrorist and do not qualify as legal enemy combatants.
These swine routinely wave white flags and hide behind women and children.
They shoot from behind the protection of mosques, schools and hospitals.
Often under the guise of surrender, these cold-hearted killers kill the guy taking them in to custody.
They routinely take hostages and saw off their heads
It is common for Marines in combat to go 3 and 4 days with out sleep.

So to make a short story shorter I’ll just tell you this, If I ever see that Marine in an airport, I’ll buy him an Old Milwaukee, because it don’t get any better than this.

This is one story of many that people normally don’t hear, and one that everyone does. This is one most don’t hear: A young Marine and his cover man cautiously enter a room just recently filled with insurgents armed with AK-47’s and RPG’s. There are three dead, another wailing in pain. The insurgent can be heard saying, “Mister, mister! Diktoor, diktoor (doctor)!” He is badly wounded, lying in a pool of his own blood. The Marine and his cover man slowly walk toward the injured man, scanning to make sure no enemies come from behind. In a split second, the pressure in the room greatly exceeds that of the outside, and the concussion seems to be felt before the blast is heard. Marines outside rush to the room, and look in horror as the dust gradually settles. The result is a room filled with the barely recognizable remains of the deceased, caused by an insurgent setting off several pounds of explosives. The Marines’ remains are gathered by teary-eyed comrades, brothers in arms, and shipped home in a box. The families can only mourn over a casket and a picture of their loved one, a life cut short by someone who hid behind a white flag. But no one hears these stories, except those who have lived to carry remains of a friend, and the families who loved the dead. No one hears this, so no one cares.

This is the story everyone hears:
A young Marine and his fire team cautiously enter a room just recently filled with insurgents armed with AK-47’s and RPG’s. There are three dead, another wailing in pain. The insurgent can be heard saying, “Mister, mister! Diktoor, diktoor (doctor)!” He is badly wounded. Suddenly, he pulls from under his bloody clothes a grenade, without the pin. The explosion rocks the room, killing one Marine, wounding the others. The young Marine catches shrapnel in the face. The next day, same Marine, same type of situation, a different story. The young Marine and his cover man enter a room with two wounded insurgents. One lies on the floor in a puddle of blood, another against the wall. A reporter and his camera survey the wreckage inside, and in the background can be heard the voice of a Marine, “He’s moving, he’s moving!” The pop of a rifle is heard, and the insurgent against the wall is now dead. Minutes, hours later, the scene is aired on national television, and the Marine is being held for committing a war crime. Unlawful killing. And now, another Marine has the possibility of being burned at the stake for protecting the life of his brethren. His family now wrings their hands in grief, tears streaming down their face. Brother, should I have been in your boots, I too would have done the same. For those of you who don’t know, we Marines, Band of Brothers, Jarheads, Leathernecks, etc., do not fight because we think it is right, or think it is wrong. We are here for the man to our left, and the man to our right. We choose to give our lives so that the man or woman next to us can go home and see their husbands, wives, children, friends and families. For those of you who sit on your couches in front of your television, and choose to condemn this man’s actions, I have but one thing to say to you. Get out of your recliner, lace up my boots, pick up a rifle, leave your family behind and join me. See what I’ve seen, walk where I have walked. To those of you who support us, my sincerest gratitude. You keep us alive. I am a Marine currently doing his second tour in Iraq. These are my opinions and mine alone. They do not represent those of the Marine Corps or of the US military, or any other.

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