Pass The Brass

This recent post here is pretty…psycho-intensive. If you really feel like reading some crazy shit, just shoot me an email explaining why you would like to read it in 3 sentences or less. Or if you wanna go more, just make a big ole runon sentence. I’ll never be able to tell the difference.

If you dont want to hear my shit…no loss on your part.

***To all the military peeps observing my actions: There is absolutely no OPSEC in this last post. No worries. It’s all personal shit. Gotta cover my six***

So no shit there I was in the heart of Baghdad, Irak…

Welcome back folks for another round of “NAME THAT FABLE!” Today’s stories are pretty bad ass, so I must warn you up front, you may have a spike in adrenaline and you may even end up jumping up and punching your computer screen out of sheer “amped-nicity”. It’s been known to happen I swear. Just don’t ask who did it.

So let’s dig in..

Story #1:

Deep in the heart of the terrorist urban jungle of Baghdad, Irak, a team of dismounted MP’s are walking through an infamous Mall-Halla(neighborhood). Their objective: Reach an appointed grid coordinate to meet up with fellow coalition forces and assist them in apprehending a small group of terrorist baddies.

As they cross the street in in front of a well known sniper location, they start taking fire from multiple rooftops about 100 meters down the roadway. Being caught out in the open, with no cover in sight, they have no choice but to make a mad dash for the building in front of them. As they spread out and break into a sprint for cover, a round lands approximately one foot from Sure Fire, then ricochets up and knicks the back of his calf. Pumped full of adrenaline and just a small hint of fear for taste, he ignores the searing heat in his calf and maintains his 50MPH sprint for cover.

Upon reaching cover, Sure Fire looks down on his leg to see it is covered in blood. A slight smirk creeps across his face as he says…’Sweeeeet.”

Story #2:

My squad gets a call for assistance from a unit in the neighborhood that we are working in. We dispatch a team to dismount and go help them out. My team gets picked. Sweet.

We cross the street of a somewhat notorious neighborhood to the building adjacent to our position where the designated meeting spot is. Directly in front of the building is a jumbled array of C-Wire, Razor Wire and Barbed Wire. There’s no point in going around as it stretches for a good 50 meters, so we cut straight across.

The first two members of my team cross without a hitch, so I step forward into the mess of doom. I place my first foot into the center of the pile and crush the wire down so I can bring my other leg across. As Im bringing my other leg over, my boot snags a line of C-Wire and brings it smashing into the back of my first leg. I merely shake it off and step out with my second leg. I shake the wire off the back of my pants of my first leg and continue walking into the building. I take three steps when some troops outside call for my attention. They all point to my leg, so I check it out. The entire of my back calf is soaked in blood. I never even knew I got cut. I had mereley thought I got my pants snagged. So I say to my driver, “Holy shit, that bled out fast. You don’t think I got an artery do ya?” His reply, ” Nah, you’ll be allright.” Of course I will. So we continue on with our mission and head inside to meet with the other unit.

As we’re inside, I’m checkin out my new battle damage and the blood just keeps soaking into the pant leg. Right about now the blood has somewhat pooled at the top of the boot and has soaked around to the front of the pant leg. As it is, it looks like I got shot. And of course, that’s what we tell the guys inside. I’m still tryin to figure out why the hell my leg bled out so fast, so I got my mind onto thinking I must have hit some big artery. Crap. That’s all I need. A severed artery, by tripping over some damned C-Wire. Bull shit. I start gettin a little light headed so I go sit down.

Now I’m telin myself, “Oh great, now I just put myself in shock. Idiot.” So I just relax and take a few deep breaths and I’m over it. Missions done. We’re rollin again. As we’re walkin outside, I ask my team leader if he could radio ahead and have Doc standing by to patch my leg up. He looks back at my leg…”Holy shit! What the hell’d you do?” I told him the truth of course. Gettin shot just wouldn’t fly with him.

So we get back and I unblouse my pantleg for Doc to clean the wound. Turns out it wasn’t that bad at all. Stitch worthy, but not bad. Deep enough to see the muscle tryin to get out though, so that was cool. We get it cleaned up and I get to walk around the rest of the day with a bad ass lookin pant leg. Sweeeet.

Story #3:

We got a call of some Iraki Policemen in a scuffle at a house they were raiding. They thought they had cleared the house, but they missed a few spots. They got caught with their pants down, so to speak. A few sidearms were discharged, and a couple IP’s were taken hostage.

They call up my squad to go assist.

We get to the cordon(perimeter) and set up our security. Our mission leader gets a back brief from the IP’s mission leader and we set to plannin some strategery. We’re goin in for some negotiations. My team goes in through the back door and heads for the first room with hostiles. They have one IP and two baddies. Luckily, the IP isn’t a human shield. We use the 9mm’s for quick target traversing. First man in tags the guy nearest the IP, then takes out the next one a couple meters away. Second man in, confirms the tango’s down and I come in for the final clearing. As I enter, the door kicks closed and a snarling baddie dives at me. He doesn’t get very far and only gets a hold of my leg. He has no weapon except his mandibles. He bites at my leg, but I’m pulling it away so he doesn’t get a teeth full. He still gets his incisors over the back of my leg and rips a good gash in my calf. Deeming him a minor threat, I don’t pop a round in his skull cap. I just give him a good pistol whipping and he’s out cold.

By the time we had finished with our room, the rest of the building had been cleared with no injuries. Well…none except my leg. Now I gotta go get a bunch of shots to make sure this doesn’t get infected and I end up losing my leg….sweeeet.

So there you have it folks. All stories laid out in their original format. Please cast your votes and make sure to post them at WWW.Passthebrass.COM

Thanks for playing everyone! Have a great night!

If you think about it, inducing one’s own despair is one of the slowest, and worst ways of suicide. You are consistently bogging yourself down with worries, sorrows, and …just shit, that for however much more shit you bog yourself down with…you sink that much lower into your pit of depair.

Self pity solves nothing and will only be good in helping to bury you deeper every day….every hour. I’ve been in some shit once or twice and I know exactly how it feels to “over think” something. To sit and dwell on it so long, that you’ve stripped away all possible good outcomes and have been left with nothing but the negative. And then, to sit and broil in it. Destroying your own character…your personality.

Self pity is Satan’s greatest tool and he has been using it to destroy someone close to me for the past few years. It’s gotten so bad, that I fear there is no return, and a tragedy is imminent. I can only forsee a crash and burn despite any advice or help offered. All assistance being rejected, they have resigned themselves to the worst fate…the slowest suicide.

Please pray for this person as it is currently their only hope, for they have abandoned all others in a defeatist’s mindset.

I had a plan to write out an elaborate paragraph or two to accompany this poem, but writer’s block seems to have plagued my mind. So I’m just going to write out the poem and I’ll see if I can’t write anything else to go with it in the future.

GILDED

It’s all over and it ends as such,
my only crime is that I cared too much.

By relations burned, my lesson’s learned.
On self reflection my thoughts have turned.

And so it is, all was for naught,
my own solitude is what I’ve wrought.

But I’m only human after all.
I’m still subject to the occasional fall.

As I pick myself up off the ground,
a new inner strength is what I’ve found.

I can see now, where I made my mistake,
my personal desires I tried to slake.

So once again I’ve proved my fallibility.
I lay myself before the Father, denouncing my ability.

I ask the Ghost to make me stronger,
to these fleshly desires, may I be bound no longer.

Guide me from earthly temptation’s pain,
instead warm my soul with Salvation’s eternal flame.

I see now that it is the Spirit which I long for,
My God…

My God…

How long was I gone for?