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- Oct 2, 1998
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- 15,220
Message from a Recon Marine in Afghanistan
Published: November 11, 2001
Author: Saucy Jack
The following was read on the Sully and Scooter (Radio KOGO in San Diego) Show
Saturday, November 17th.
Just outside of Ab Gach, in the northwest panhandle of Afghanistan between
Tajikstan and Pakistan.
November 11, 2001
Bizarre,
It's (expletive) freezing here. I'm sitting on hard, cold dirt between rocks and shrubs
at the base of the Hindu Kush mountains along the Dar'yoi Pomir River watching a
hole that leads to a tunnel that leads to a cave.
Stake out, my friend, and no pizza delivery for thousands of miles. I also glance at
the area around my ass every ten to fifteen seconds to avoid another scorpion
sting. I've actually given up battling the chiggers and sand fleas, but them
(expletive) scorpions give a jolt like a cattle prod. Hurts like a bastard. The antidote
tastes like transmission fluid but God bless the Marine Corps for the five vials of it
in my pack.
The one truth the Taliban cannot escape is that, believe it or not, they are human
beings, which means they have to eat food and drink water. That requires couriers
and that's where an old bounty hunter like me comes in handy. I track the couriers,
locate the tunnel entrances and storage facilities, type the info into the handheld,
shoot the coordinates up to the satellite link that tells the air commanders where to
drop the hardware, we bash some heads for a while, then I track and record the
new movement.
It's all about intelligence. We haven't even brought in the snipers yet. These
scurrying rats have no idea what they're in for. We are but days away from cutting
off supply lines and allowing the eradication to begin. I dream of bin Laden waking
up to find me standing over him with my boot on his throat as I spit a bloody ear
into his face and plunge my nickel plated Bowie knife through his frontal lobe.
But you know me. I'm a romantic. I've said it before and Ill say it again: This
country blows, man. It's not even a country. There are no roads, there's no
infrastructure, there's no government. This is an inhospitable, rockpit (expletive)
ruled by eleventh century warring tribes. There are no jobs here like we know jobs.
Afghanistan offers two ways for a man to support his family: join the opium trade or
join the army. That's it. Those are your options. Oh, I forgot, you can also live in a
refugee camp and eat plum-sweetened, crushed beetle paste and squirt mud like a
goose with stomach flu if that's your idea of a party. But the smell alone of those
"tent cities of the walking dead" is enough to hurl you into the poppy fields to
cheerfully scrape bulbs for eighteen hours a day.
And let me tell you something else. I've been living with these Tajiks and Uzbeks
and Turkmen and even a couple of Pushtins for over a month and a half now and
this much I can say for sure: These guys, all of em, are Huns. Actual, living Huns.
They LIVE to fight. Its what they do. Its ALL they do. They have no respect for
anything, not for their families or for each other or for themselves. They claw at one
another as a way of life.
They play polo with dead calves and force their five-year-old sons into human
cockfights to defend the family honor. Huns, roaming packs of savage, heartless
beasts who feed on each other's barbarism. (Expletive) cavemen with AK 47's.
Then again, maybe I'm just cranky. I'm freezing my (expletive) off on this stupid
(expletive) hill because my lap warmer is running out of juice and I can't recharge it
until the sun comes up in a few hours. Oh yeah! You like to write letters, right? Do
me a favor, Bizarre. Write a letter to CNN and tell Judy and Bernie and that awful,
sneering, pompous Aaron Brown to stop calling the Taliban "smart." They are not
smart. I suggest CNN invest in a dictionary because the word they are looking for
is "cunning." The Taliban are cunning, like jackals and hyenas and wolverines.
They are sneaky and ruthless and,
when confronted, cowardly. They are hateful, malevolent parasites who create
nothing and destroy everything else.
Smart. Pfft.
Yeah, they're real smart. They've spent their entire lives reading only one book (and
not a very good one, as books go) and consider hygiene and indoor plumbing to be
products of the devil. They're still figuring out how to work a Bic lighter. Talking to a
Taliban warrior about improving his quality of life is like trying to teach an ape how
to hold a pen; eventually he just gets frustrated and sticks you in the eye with it.
OK, enough.
Snuffle will be up soon so I have to get back to my hole. Covering my tracks in the
snow takes a lot of practice but I'm getting good at it. Please tell my fellow
Americans to turn off their TV sets and move on with their lives. The story line you
are getting from CNN is utter (expletive) and designed not to deliver truth but rather
to keep you glued to the screen through the commercials. We've got this one under
control. The worst thing you guys can do right now is sit around analyzing what
we're doing over here because you have no idea what we're doing and, really, you
don't want to know. We are your
military and we are doing what you sent us here to do. You wanna help? Buy some
(expletive) stocks, America.
Saucy Jack
Published: November 11, 2001
Author: Saucy Jack
The following was read on the Sully and Scooter (Radio KOGO in San Diego) Show
Saturday, November 17th.
Just outside of Ab Gach, in the northwest panhandle of Afghanistan between
Tajikstan and Pakistan.
November 11, 2001
Bizarre,
It's (expletive) freezing here. I'm sitting on hard, cold dirt between rocks and shrubs
at the base of the Hindu Kush mountains along the Dar'yoi Pomir River watching a
hole that leads to a tunnel that leads to a cave.
Stake out, my friend, and no pizza delivery for thousands of miles. I also glance at
the area around my ass every ten to fifteen seconds to avoid another scorpion
sting. I've actually given up battling the chiggers and sand fleas, but them
(expletive) scorpions give a jolt like a cattle prod. Hurts like a bastard. The antidote
tastes like transmission fluid but God bless the Marine Corps for the five vials of it
in my pack.
The one truth the Taliban cannot escape is that, believe it or not, they are human
beings, which means they have to eat food and drink water. That requires couriers
and that's where an old bounty hunter like me comes in handy. I track the couriers,
locate the tunnel entrances and storage facilities, type the info into the handheld,
shoot the coordinates up to the satellite link that tells the air commanders where to
drop the hardware, we bash some heads for a while, then I track and record the
new movement.
It's all about intelligence. We haven't even brought in the snipers yet. These
scurrying rats have no idea what they're in for. We are but days away from cutting
off supply lines and allowing the eradication to begin. I dream of bin Laden waking
up to find me standing over him with my boot on his throat as I spit a bloody ear
into his face and plunge my nickel plated Bowie knife through his frontal lobe.
But you know me. I'm a romantic. I've said it before and Ill say it again: This
country blows, man. It's not even a country. There are no roads, there's no
infrastructure, there's no government. This is an inhospitable, rockpit (expletive)
ruled by eleventh century warring tribes. There are no jobs here like we know jobs.
Afghanistan offers two ways for a man to support his family: join the opium trade or
join the army. That's it. Those are your options. Oh, I forgot, you can also live in a
refugee camp and eat plum-sweetened, crushed beetle paste and squirt mud like a
goose with stomach flu if that's your idea of a party. But the smell alone of those
"tent cities of the walking dead" is enough to hurl you into the poppy fields to
cheerfully scrape bulbs for eighteen hours a day.
And let me tell you something else. I've been living with these Tajiks and Uzbeks
and Turkmen and even a couple of Pushtins for over a month and a half now and
this much I can say for sure: These guys, all of em, are Huns. Actual, living Huns.
They LIVE to fight. Its what they do. Its ALL they do. They have no respect for
anything, not for their families or for each other or for themselves. They claw at one
another as a way of life.
They play polo with dead calves and force their five-year-old sons into human
cockfights to defend the family honor. Huns, roaming packs of savage, heartless
beasts who feed on each other's barbarism. (Expletive) cavemen with AK 47's.
Then again, maybe I'm just cranky. I'm freezing my (expletive) off on this stupid
(expletive) hill because my lap warmer is running out of juice and I can't recharge it
until the sun comes up in a few hours. Oh yeah! You like to write letters, right? Do
me a favor, Bizarre. Write a letter to CNN and tell Judy and Bernie and that awful,
sneering, pompous Aaron Brown to stop calling the Taliban "smart." They are not
smart. I suggest CNN invest in a dictionary because the word they are looking for
is "cunning." The Taliban are cunning, like jackals and hyenas and wolverines.
They are sneaky and ruthless and,
when confronted, cowardly. They are hateful, malevolent parasites who create
nothing and destroy everything else.
Smart. Pfft.
Yeah, they're real smart. They've spent their entire lives reading only one book (and
not a very good one, as books go) and consider hygiene and indoor plumbing to be
products of the devil. They're still figuring out how to work a Bic lighter. Talking to a
Taliban warrior about improving his quality of life is like trying to teach an ape how
to hold a pen; eventually he just gets frustrated and sticks you in the eye with it.
OK, enough.
Snuffle will be up soon so I have to get back to my hole. Covering my tracks in the
snow takes a lot of practice but I'm getting good at it. Please tell my fellow
Americans to turn off their TV sets and move on with their lives. The story line you
are getting from CNN is utter (expletive) and designed not to deliver truth but rather
to keep you glued to the screen through the commercials. We've got this one under
control. The worst thing you guys can do right now is sit around analyzing what
we're doing over here because you have no idea what we're doing and, really, you
don't want to know. We are your
military and we are doing what you sent us here to do. You wanna help? Buy some
(expletive) stocks, America.
Saucy Jack
Am I being out of line by questioning the authenticity of this? Not that it matters to me. 
