Going back a third time to see Iraq for myself
GORDON DILLOW GORDON DILLOW
http://www.ocregister.com/ocregister/news/...cle_1192880.php
As I write this, I'm getting ready to head back to Iraq.
It will be my third trip to that troubled country in as many years, my third opportunity to be an "embedded" reporter with units of the United States Marine Corps. I'm looking forward to it with excitement, and also, I'll admit, a little bit of dread.
I'm excited because I'll have another chance to spend time with some of the best and bravest and most dedicated young men and women that America has to offer. But my old bones and creaky joints are dreading the physical exertion and discomfort that is part of any trip to that hot and dusty and sometimes dangerous place.
So why am I going back?
I guess it's partly because it's been two years since I was there last, and I need to refresh my knowledge of the country and the mission and the people who are performing it.
I often write columns and give speeches about my previous reporting tours with the Marines in Iraq, from the march up to Baghdad in 2003 to occupation duty in the Sunni Triangle in 2004. But when people ask me what it's like in Iraq now, I can only offer second-hand information, from military friends who are there or from what I see and hear in the news.
And like many of you, I'm not sure that what I see in the news really reflects what is happening in Iraq. Sure, the reports of violence and bombings and deaths are factual, and unavoidable. But my military friends tell me there is much more than that going on now - and I'd like to see it for myself.
And there's another reason why I'm going to Iraq, a personal reason. It's because I feel in my heart that "my" Marines may need me.
I know that may sound presumptuous and self-important. But I don't mean it that way. I certainly don't believe that one mere newspaper columnist can really change anything in any fundamental way, or that the Marines couldn't easily get along without me hanging around.
But as you know, these are tough times for the American military in general and the Marines in particular. The news is heavy with reports on every alleged military misstep and every alleged atrocity - emphasis on "alleged" - and distressingly light on reports about the tens of thousands of military men and women who are doing their jobs over there with courage and dedication and honor.
I'd like to help alter that imbalance, even in a small way. I want to help tell the stories of those men and women - who they are, where they're from, what they eat and where they sleep, how they really feel about their mission. And while I'll call the stories as I see 'em, I won't let the bad blind me to the good.
This will be a short trip, just a month or so. And since I'll be on personal leave, I won't be filing regular columns for the Register from there. Instead, I'll write a series of columns about Iraq on my return.
In the meantime, I'll have a daily blog at blogs.ocregister.com/dillow that will feature written reports as well as photos and audio reports. (Yes, I know a lot of you aren't very Internet-oriented - and honestly, neither am I. But try it. It's a lot easier than you think.) I'll also be doing daily radio reports for KNX 1070 News Radio.
Now, if my past trips to Iraq are any indication, I know that some of you may worry about me, and some may even want to send prayers my way. I deeply appreciate that.
But the truth is that while I'm not a tough or brave guy, I will be surrounded at all times by U.S. Marines who are - and I know they will take good care of me. Besides, in the overall scheme of things the fate of one wrinkled old newspaper columnist really doesn't amount to much.
So as much as I appreciate it, the worries and the prayers would be better directed on behalf of the young American military men and women serving in Iraq and Afghanistan, and around the world. They have their whole lives ahead of them – and we should all hope and pray that God will protect them, and bring them safely home.
So that's it. Thank you in advance for all your support.
And I'll see you when I get back.
Full Version: Going back a third time to see Iraq for myself
Common Ground Common Sense > Issues that Affect Our Lives > U.S. Military Issues > U.S. Military Issues Archive
I think it speaks volumes that "trips to Iraq" whether embedded as a reporter or as a member of Congress, and/or the administration are taken to be "knowing what goes on". IMHO these are of little to no value.
How about reports from persons embedded with say a range of Iraqi families for a couple of months or so. Maybe then I would be interested in reading their comments. It speaks even more that this sort of discovery visit cannot occur.
lenal
How about reports from persons embedded with say a range of Iraqi families for a couple of months or so. Maybe then I would be interested in reading their comments. It speaks even more that this sort of discovery visit cannot occur.
lenal
Hhttp://blogs.ocregister.com/dillow/
Highlights from the Blog: Go to link for full reports:
June 25, 2006
Hands of Victory
With not much else to do today, my public affairs escort, an Army Specialist 4, let me do a little Green Zone sightseeing. So I stopped by the famous, or infamous, “Hands of Victory” monument, the one with two sets of enormous crossed swords grasped by giant stone hands -- hands that are exact replicas of Saddam’s own hands. Saddam had the thing built by a German company in the late 1980s to celebrate his “victory” over Iran in the Iran-Iraq war, a war in which hundreds of thousands of conscripts on both sides were slaughtered for no appreciable gain on either side.
Some victory.
Suddenly, good news. I’m manifested on a helicopter flight west to Al Asad at 2300 – 11 p.m. civilian time.
Goodbye, Green Zone. Hello Marines.
Posted at 08:17 AM | Comments (7) | TrackBack (0)
Green Zone
It’s Sunday, and I’m being held under close security in a prison-like setting by guys with M-16s who are from Peru – which is to say, I’m stuck in the Green Zone.
The Green Zone, also known as the International Zone, is a nine- or ten-square-mile section (the dimensions are somewhat fluid) of downtown Baghdad that was once the seat of Saddam Husseins’s government, a relatively lush plot of urban real estate crammed with palaces and government buildings and monuments to Saddam.
But that was then. Now the Green Zone serves as the headquarters and nerve center of the U.S. mission in Iraq. Sometimes known as “the ultimate gated community,” it’s surrounded and divided by concertina wire and concrete blast walls and checkpoints with signs announcing, “Do Not Enter Without Authorization: Violators Will Be Shot.”
And they aren’t kidding.
Continue reading "Green Zone"
Posted at 05:36 AM | Comments (8) | TrackBack (0)
June 24, 2006
Riding the RHINO
The best way to make the potentially dangerous trip from Baghdad International Airport to the U.S.-controlled "Green Zone" in downtown Baghdad is to take a military helicopter. The second best way is to ride the RHINO.
The RHINO is a $275,000, 37-ton (loaded) armored bus that every night plies the dangerous route from the airport to the city. They say a RHINO can take an RPG (rocket-propelled grenade) hit without it even mussing the passengers' hair -- although anyone who has to ride it would just as soon not test the claim.
I didn’t want to have to ride the RHINO, or go to the Green Zone at all for that matter; I’d rather have been out in the field with the Marines.
But things have changed since the last time I was here two years ago. Journalists can’t just walk in and hook up with a military outfit anymore; first you have to get officially credentialed by the U.S. high command, and the only place to do that is in the Green Zone.
And since I couldn’t get a seat on a helicopter, the RHINO was my only way into town.
Continue reading "Riding the RHINO"
Posted at 12:47 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack (0)
June 23, 2006
C-130
The C-130 Hercules is the U.S. military’s all-purpose go-to transport aircraft, and has been for almost a half century. The four-engine turbo-prop planes with a 100-foot wingspan plane can carry up to 42,000 pounds of everything from armored vehicles to palletized cargo to troops – and even the occasional journalist.
But while C-130s are sturdy and dependable, flying in one is a million miles from first-class.
Continue reading "C-130"
Posted at 08:37 PM | Comments (8) | TrackBack (0)
June 22, 2006
Getting to Kuwait City
In some ways the hardest part of going to Iraq is the getting there.
It’s 7,700 miles from Orange County to Baghdad as the crow flies – but crows don’t have to stop in London. I took a 10-hour non-stop flight from LAX to Heathrow, had a 12-hour layover and then a six-hour flight from London to Kuwait City, the usual entry point for embedded journalists heading to Iraq.
Kuwait City is a safe, modern, oil-rich metropolis of high-rise hotels and office buildings and bustling commerce and every fast food joint known to Western man, from McDonald’s to KFC. It’s sort of what Iraq could be if it could ever get its act together. The biggest danger that most Americans face here is surviving the taxi ride into town from the airport; like cabbies the world over, the cab drivers here are madmen.
Continue reading "Getting to Kuwait City"
Posted at 04:04 AM | Comments (8) | TrackBack (0)
June 21, 2006
Why I’m Going Back To Iraq
I give a lot of speeches to various groups about my first two trips to Iraq as an embedded reporter with the U.S. Marines. I talk about the courage and dedication of the young Marines I was with, their high morale and spirit, what they’ve accomplished over there. And invariably someone will ask me, “Why don’t we hear more about that here? Why do we only hear bad news from Iraq?”
Continue reading "Why I’m Going Back To Iraq"
Posted at 01:34 PM | Comments (14) | TrackBack (0)
Going back a third time to see Iraq for myself
As I write this, I'm getting ready to head back to Iraq.
It will be my third trip to that troubled country in as many years, my third opportunity to be an "embedded" reporter with units of the United States Marine Corps. I'm looking forward to it with excitement, and also, I'll admit, a little bit of dread.
I'm excited because I'll have another chance to spend time with some of the best and bravest and most dedicated young men and women that America has to offer. But my old bones and creaky joints are dreading the physical exertion and discomfort that is part of any trip to that hot and dusty and sometimes dangerous place.
Media Partners: KOCE | MSNBC | OCExcelsior | SqueezeOC | Home magazine | Coast magazine | KPCC | KMEX
Copyright 2005 The Orange County Register | Contact us | Privacy policy | User agreement | Career opportunities | Privacy policy | Advertise with us | Contact us | About us | Corrections | Archives & Single Scene | California Lottery
Freedom Communications, Inc.
Highlights from the Blog: Go to link for full reports:
June 25, 2006
Hands of Victory
With not much else to do today, my public affairs escort, an Army Specialist 4, let me do a little Green Zone sightseeing. So I stopped by the famous, or infamous, “Hands of Victory” monument, the one with two sets of enormous crossed swords grasped by giant stone hands -- hands that are exact replicas of Saddam’s own hands. Saddam had the thing built by a German company in the late 1980s to celebrate his “victory” over Iran in the Iran-Iraq war, a war in which hundreds of thousands of conscripts on both sides were slaughtered for no appreciable gain on either side.
Some victory.
Suddenly, good news. I’m manifested on a helicopter flight west to Al Asad at 2300 – 11 p.m. civilian time.
Goodbye, Green Zone. Hello Marines.
Posted at 08:17 AM | Comments (7) | TrackBack (0)
Green Zone
It’s Sunday, and I’m being held under close security in a prison-like setting by guys with M-16s who are from Peru – which is to say, I’m stuck in the Green Zone.
The Green Zone, also known as the International Zone, is a nine- or ten-square-mile section (the dimensions are somewhat fluid) of downtown Baghdad that was once the seat of Saddam Husseins’s government, a relatively lush plot of urban real estate crammed with palaces and government buildings and monuments to Saddam.
But that was then. Now the Green Zone serves as the headquarters and nerve center of the U.S. mission in Iraq. Sometimes known as “the ultimate gated community,” it’s surrounded and divided by concertina wire and concrete blast walls and checkpoints with signs announcing, “Do Not Enter Without Authorization: Violators Will Be Shot.”
And they aren’t kidding.
Continue reading "Green Zone"
Posted at 05:36 AM | Comments (8) | TrackBack (0)
June 24, 2006
Riding the RHINO
The best way to make the potentially dangerous trip from Baghdad International Airport to the U.S.-controlled "Green Zone" in downtown Baghdad is to take a military helicopter. The second best way is to ride the RHINO.
The RHINO is a $275,000, 37-ton (loaded) armored bus that every night plies the dangerous route from the airport to the city. They say a RHINO can take an RPG (rocket-propelled grenade) hit without it even mussing the passengers' hair -- although anyone who has to ride it would just as soon not test the claim.
I didn’t want to have to ride the RHINO, or go to the Green Zone at all for that matter; I’d rather have been out in the field with the Marines.
But things have changed since the last time I was here two years ago. Journalists can’t just walk in and hook up with a military outfit anymore; first you have to get officially credentialed by the U.S. high command, and the only place to do that is in the Green Zone.
And since I couldn’t get a seat on a helicopter, the RHINO was my only way into town.
Continue reading "Riding the RHINO"
Posted at 12:47 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack (0)
June 23, 2006
C-130
The C-130 Hercules is the U.S. military’s all-purpose go-to transport aircraft, and has been for almost a half century. The four-engine turbo-prop planes with a 100-foot wingspan plane can carry up to 42,000 pounds of everything from armored vehicles to palletized cargo to troops – and even the occasional journalist.
But while C-130s are sturdy and dependable, flying in one is a million miles from first-class.
Continue reading "C-130"
Posted at 08:37 PM | Comments (8) | TrackBack (0)
June 22, 2006
Getting to Kuwait City
In some ways the hardest part of going to Iraq is the getting there.
It’s 7,700 miles from Orange County to Baghdad as the crow flies – but crows don’t have to stop in London. I took a 10-hour non-stop flight from LAX to Heathrow, had a 12-hour layover and then a six-hour flight from London to Kuwait City, the usual entry point for embedded journalists heading to Iraq.
Kuwait City is a safe, modern, oil-rich metropolis of high-rise hotels and office buildings and bustling commerce and every fast food joint known to Western man, from McDonald’s to KFC. It’s sort of what Iraq could be if it could ever get its act together. The biggest danger that most Americans face here is surviving the taxi ride into town from the airport; like cabbies the world over, the cab drivers here are madmen.
Continue reading "Getting to Kuwait City"
Posted at 04:04 AM | Comments (8) | TrackBack (0)
June 21, 2006
Why I’m Going Back To Iraq
I give a lot of speeches to various groups about my first two trips to Iraq as an embedded reporter with the U.S. Marines. I talk about the courage and dedication of the young Marines I was with, their high morale and spirit, what they’ve accomplished over there. And invariably someone will ask me, “Why don’t we hear more about that here? Why do we only hear bad news from Iraq?”
Continue reading "Why I’m Going Back To Iraq"
Posted at 01:34 PM | Comments (14) | TrackBack (0)
Going back a third time to see Iraq for myself
As I write this, I'm getting ready to head back to Iraq.
It will be my third trip to that troubled country in as many years, my third opportunity to be an "embedded" reporter with units of the United States Marine Corps. I'm looking forward to it with excitement, and also, I'll admit, a little bit of dread.
I'm excited because I'll have another chance to spend time with some of the best and bravest and most dedicated young men and women that America has to offer. But my old bones and creaky joints are dreading the physical exertion and discomfort that is part of any trip to that hot and dusty and sometimes dangerous place.
Media Partners: KOCE | MSNBC | OCExcelsior | SqueezeOC | Home magazine | Coast magazine | KPCC | KMEX
Copyright 2005 The Orange County Register | Contact us | Privacy policy | User agreement | Career opportunities | Privacy policy | Advertise with us | Contact us | About us | Corrections | Archives & Single Scene | California Lottery
Freedom Communications, Inc.
Due to company insurance requirements?
June 29, 2006
Editor's note
Due to company insurance requirements, we are unable to continue Gordon Dillow's Iraq blog. His regular column will resume when he returns from leave.
June 27, 2006
Punisher 52
When I saw the helicopter that I was supposed to ride in, I could hardly believe it.
I was expecting something like a nice big fat CH-46, a smooth-riding, spacious, two-rotor helicopter for the trip from Baghdad’s Green Zone to Al Asad airbase in western Al Anbar province. But I knew the single-rotor shape looming in the darkness at Landing Zone Washington was a different kind of helicopter entirely.
Just to be certain, I asked the Marine captain standing in the short passenger line next to me.
Captain, what kind of helicopter is that?
“That’s a Blackhawk,” the captain said. Then he added -- helpfully he must have thought -- “You know, like in the movie ‘Blackhawk Down’?”
Blackhawk DOWN.
Thanks, Captain, I thought. I feel a whole lot better now.
The flight was designated “Punisher 52,” and while I’m not sure if it punished anybody else, it certainly punished me.
The punishment began even before the flight lifted off, when a young female soldier at the manifest desk took a Magic Marker and drew, in big, bold purple, the letters “AA” on the back of my right hand – short for Al Asad. This was because I was a “PAX,” military-ese for a passenger, and to military aircrews PAXes are by definition dumber than dirt, and can easily bumble their way onto the wrong aircraft unless appropriately branded.
After a hand-check on the flight line I clambered aboard the Army Blackhawk, a relatively small attack and assault helicopter that on this occasion was carrying five passengers and four crew members. I got a seat directly behind the right-side .50-caliber machine gunner and right next to the gaping open-bay door. Eyeing the open bay, I cinched my four-point seat belt tighter than a corset; no matter what evasive maneuvers the Blackhawk might employ – hey, I had seen the movie – I was determined to remain in the aircraft.
We finally lifted off at about 0030 hours – 12:30 a.m. civilian time – and rapidly rose above the city. Baghdad observed from the air at night is like any big city observed from the air at night – that is, no matter how dirty and dangerous it is by day, by night it is beautiful, a diamond field of twinkling white and amber lights.
We headed west at high speed – I’m not sure how fast – and at relatively low altitude – I’m not sure just how low. We briefly landed a couple of times in pitch darkness, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, for reasons I can’t explain. In fact, I can hardly explain anything about the flight, because none of the crew members explained anything to us.
That’s understandable. They were serious professionals, doing a dangerous job with skill and even grace, and we were mere PAX; it would no more have occurred to them to explain things to us than it would have occurred to them to explain things to our luggage. And even if they had, the roar of the engines and the rotor was so loud none of us would have been able to hear them.
But I can tell you that it was easily the worst aircraft ride of my life. I’m not usually a bad flier, and I didn’t get sick or anything. But the blasting heat and the ear-walloping noise and the relentless vibration and the close confinement and the wind whipping through the open bay, which caused the loose excess of my shoulder straps to mercilessly flog my face, all that combined with the knowledge that at any time somebody might try to shoot at us – well, it was double-down miserable. And when, two hours later, we finally landed at Al Asad airbase, I bolted out of that helicopter as if it were on fire.
But as much as I hated the trip, I had to admire the air crew. Those young guys do this dangerous and uncomfortable job every day, several times a day, while most of the rest of us lay snug in our beds. And though I didn’t get the chance to meet them personally – I was, after all, only a PAX, and was immediately hustled off the flight line by a guy with a green light – I instinctively trusted those guys. I won’t necessarily look forward to it, but I’ll fly with them again -- any day.
In any event, finally I was away from the Green Zone. Now it was time to hook up with the Marines of the 3rd Civil Affairs Group, Detachment 1, of Marine Regimental Combat Team 7 -- and to see some of the real Iraq.
Posted at June 27, 2006 09:44 AM
Trackback Pings
TrackBack URL for this entry:
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Comments
You've convinced me to try my first blog today. What a treat it has been! Tell our men & women how much they are on our minds & in our hearts. Looking forward to your insightful reports.
Posted by: Pam Waldow at June 27, 2006 12:52 PM
I'm looking forward to your comments. Tell us something we don't normally read or hear.
paul
Posted by: Paul Wilson at June 27, 2006 02:54 PM
OK, I'm hooked, I'll be back tomorrow. Do the Iraqi people seem grateful or hateful that we are there?
Posted by: Richard Schimek at June 27, 2006 03:39 PM
LtCol, USMC rtd, read all I could about your first trip with tHE Marines, and have followed most of your columns since, enjoy them, admire you, respect you for giving us a real look at what goes on there. Vaya con DIOS
Posted by: gordon gray at June 27, 2006 04:41 PM
Gordon, you have stood at my side and by the side the of my fellow law enforcement officers for many years. For that I salute you!
I eagerly await your "spinless", accurate accounts of the events and reporting of the day to day lives of my other "extended family" in the United States Marine Corps.
Semper Fi and God's Speed,
CDub.
Posted by: Chris Wilson at June 27, 2006 05:51 PM
Gordon: Thank you for the riveting report of your flight--I will plan on booking one really soon!! I have emailed many family and friends about your blog, and you have a huge audience awaiting your reports. At last some news from Iraq we can rely on!! Be safe and well, and please KEEP YOUR FAT HEAD DOWN!!!! Godspeed always!!
Steve
Posted by: Steve Berger at June 27, 2006 06:47 PM
Gordon, Bless you for your return to Iraq. As a former U.S.Navy Hospital Corpsman, I am fully aware of all the risks our military take in pursuit of freedom. Please let our brave servicemen and servicewomen know they are in our prayers. Thank You. Tracey V.
Posted by: Tracey Vargo at June 27, 2006 07:07 PM
Here's one more thank you from a former OC resident who now lives in AR. Adding to what Steve said..KEEP YOUR ASS DOWN TOO! Tell'em all this Granny loves and thanks them...
Posted by: Donna at June 28, 2006 09:19 AM
Out of the sack, onto your blog is now my MO. When I didn't find one on the 27th - panic! Then I realized you were stuck in the morass of the GZ. Your blogs will rate more than one book! Again, BE CAREFUL! Along with all the others, please pass along appreciation and admiration to our troops as you meet them. God Bless.
Posted by: Old Dottie at June 28, 2006 09:30 AMhttp://blogs.ocregister.com/dillow/
June 29, 2006
Editor's note
Due to company insurance requirements, we are unable to continue Gordon Dillow's Iraq blog. His regular column will resume when he returns from leave.
June 27, 2006
Punisher 52
When I saw the helicopter that I was supposed to ride in, I could hardly believe it.
I was expecting something like a nice big fat CH-46, a smooth-riding, spacious, two-rotor helicopter for the trip from Baghdad’s Green Zone to Al Asad airbase in western Al Anbar province. But I knew the single-rotor shape looming in the darkness at Landing Zone Washington was a different kind of helicopter entirely.
Just to be certain, I asked the Marine captain standing in the short passenger line next to me.
Captain, what kind of helicopter is that?
“That’s a Blackhawk,” the captain said. Then he added -- helpfully he must have thought -- “You know, like in the movie ‘Blackhawk Down’?”
Blackhawk DOWN.
Thanks, Captain, I thought. I feel a whole lot better now.
The flight was designated “Punisher 52,” and while I’m not sure if it punished anybody else, it certainly punished me.
The punishment began even before the flight lifted off, when a young female soldier at the manifest desk took a Magic Marker and drew, in big, bold purple, the letters “AA” on the back of my right hand – short for Al Asad. This was because I was a “PAX,” military-ese for a passenger, and to military aircrews PAXes are by definition dumber than dirt, and can easily bumble their way onto the wrong aircraft unless appropriately branded.
After a hand-check on the flight line I clambered aboard the Army Blackhawk, a relatively small attack and assault helicopter that on this occasion was carrying five passengers and four crew members. I got a seat directly behind the right-side .50-caliber machine gunner and right next to the gaping open-bay door. Eyeing the open bay, I cinched my four-point seat belt tighter than a corset; no matter what evasive maneuvers the Blackhawk might employ – hey, I had seen the movie – I was determined to remain in the aircraft.
We finally lifted off at about 0030 hours – 12:30 a.m. civilian time – and rapidly rose above the city. Baghdad observed from the air at night is like any big city observed from the air at night – that is, no matter how dirty and dangerous it is by day, by night it is beautiful, a diamond field of twinkling white and amber lights.
We headed west at high speed – I’m not sure how fast – and at relatively low altitude – I’m not sure just how low. We briefly landed a couple of times in pitch darkness, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, for reasons I can’t explain. In fact, I can hardly explain anything about the flight, because none of the crew members explained anything to us.
That’s understandable. They were serious professionals, doing a dangerous job with skill and even grace, and we were mere PAX; it would no more have occurred to them to explain things to us than it would have occurred to them to explain things to our luggage. And even if they had, the roar of the engines and the rotor was so loud none of us would have been able to hear them.
But I can tell you that it was easily the worst aircraft ride of my life. I’m not usually a bad flier, and I didn’t get sick or anything. But the blasting heat and the ear-walloping noise and the relentless vibration and the close confinement and the wind whipping through the open bay, which caused the loose excess of my shoulder straps to mercilessly flog my face, all that combined with the knowledge that at any time somebody might try to shoot at us – well, it was double-down miserable. And when, two hours later, we finally landed at Al Asad airbase, I bolted out of that helicopter as if it were on fire.
But as much as I hated the trip, I had to admire the air crew. Those young guys do this dangerous and uncomfortable job every day, several times a day, while most of the rest of us lay snug in our beds. And though I didn’t get the chance to meet them personally – I was, after all, only a PAX, and was immediately hustled off the flight line by a guy with a green light – I instinctively trusted those guys. I won’t necessarily look forward to it, but I’ll fly with them again -- any day.
In any event, finally I was away from the Green Zone. Now it was time to hook up with the Marines of the 3rd Civil Affairs Group, Detachment 1, of Marine Regimental Combat Team 7 -- and to see some of the real Iraq.
Posted at June 27, 2006 09:44 AM
Trackback Pings
TrackBack URL for this entry:
http://blogs.ocregister.com/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1888
Comments
You've convinced me to try my first blog today. What a treat it has been! Tell our men & women how much they are on our minds & in our hearts. Looking forward to your insightful reports.
Posted by: Pam Waldow at June 27, 2006 12:52 PM
I'm looking forward to your comments. Tell us something we don't normally read or hear.
paul
Posted by: Paul Wilson at June 27, 2006 02:54 PM
OK, I'm hooked, I'll be back tomorrow. Do the Iraqi people seem grateful or hateful that we are there?
Posted by: Richard Schimek at June 27, 2006 03:39 PM
LtCol, USMC rtd, read all I could about your first trip with tHE Marines, and have followed most of your columns since, enjoy them, admire you, respect you for giving us a real look at what goes on there. Vaya con DIOS
Posted by: gordon gray at June 27, 2006 04:41 PM
Gordon, you have stood at my side and by the side the of my fellow law enforcement officers for many years. For that I salute you!
I eagerly await your "spinless", accurate accounts of the events and reporting of the day to day lives of my other "extended family" in the United States Marine Corps.
Semper Fi and God's Speed,
CDub.
Posted by: Chris Wilson at June 27, 2006 05:51 PM
Gordon: Thank you for the riveting report of your flight--I will plan on booking one really soon!! I have emailed many family and friends about your blog, and you have a huge audience awaiting your reports. At last some news from Iraq we can rely on!! Be safe and well, and please KEEP YOUR FAT HEAD DOWN!!!! Godspeed always!!
Steve
Posted by: Steve Berger at June 27, 2006 06:47 PM
Gordon, Bless you for your return to Iraq. As a former U.S.Navy Hospital Corpsman, I am fully aware of all the risks our military take in pursuit of freedom. Please let our brave servicemen and servicewomen know they are in our prayers. Thank You. Tracey V.
Posted by: Tracey Vargo at June 27, 2006 07:07 PM
Here's one more thank you from a former OC resident who now lives in AR. Adding to what Steve said..KEEP YOUR ASS DOWN TOO! Tell'em all this Granny loves and thanks them...
Posted by: Donna at June 28, 2006 09:19 AM
Out of the sack, onto your blog is now my MO. When I didn't find one on the 27th - panic! Then I realized you were stuck in the morass of the GZ. Your blogs will rate more than one book! Again, BE CAREFUL! Along with all the others, please pass along appreciation and admiration to our troops as you meet them. God Bless.
Posted by: Old Dottie at June 28, 2006 09:30 AMhttp://blogs.ocregister.com/dillow/
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