Fighting Holes


Ranger grave up. These arent comfy but i miss them. They’re also more comfortable than most sleeping arrangements in-country once you get outside the FOB.



F: tell me how you heal.
T: i don’t.



Think this might be Restrepo. Korengal valley is infamous in Afghanistan. It’s also where Pat Tillman was killed (Jon Krakauer wrote a good book about that).

US Army clears a house


“Capt. Amy Bishop

Soldiers of the 1st Squadron, 33rd Cavalry Regiment, 3rd Brigade Combat Team, 101st Airborne Division prepare to clear a home during Operation Starlite, a nine-day mission in the Salah Ah Din province of Iraq. The mission was conducted to rid the area of Anti Iraqi Forces.”

Anyone got a definition of “Anti Iraqi Forces”? I’m assuming that, because they live in Iraq, they’re probably Iraqis…who…don’t like Iraq? But we love Iraq SO MUCH that we’re gonna get rid of those people who don’t. Some PR brass is working overtime.

P.S: We are also going to get rid of terror by raiding peoples’ homes when they least expect it.
P.P.S: With our scary looking guns.

Kids And War Go Together Like Mac’n’Cheese




This is the back blast of an AT-4. That means that this is what happens on the FIRING end. . .

War kills like this.

July 3, 2007. Fallujah

I don’t give a fuck about America.
America don’t give a fuck about me.

“This isn’t about the colour of their skin, or about religion. This is about who they are. And who they are are very ordinary people who have been swayed by tyrants and terrorists to become radical Islamic fundamentalists seeking revenge against us for upholding the, you know, the values that we have. And those values are…are integrity and liberty and freedom.”

George W. Bush, February 3, 2004, answering questions after media announced that 13 civilians were killed by a guided-missile near Khost, on Afghanistan’s Pakistan border.

Squared Away

In Iraq in Kuwait in Germany in Texas

their cologne smells like
every Asian guy in my company.
it’s not an unpleasant smell -not sickly sweet, not girly.
fuck it’s not even heady.

their cologne smells like the train to Washington
when the train to Washington smells like Iraq
in Kuwait, in Germany, in Texas.
it’s an attractive smell -not sickly sweet, not girly.
it just smells like the home I keep trying to find.

Sep. 15, 2011

after Edward Said

No less fearsome are the guerrillas.

Abu Ghraib, Iraq


for Heidi Kraft

in the second before the bomb
fell from God,
he felt himself slip from
the Lord’s embrace
as only a favourite son can
slip from his father’s arms.

it happened in slow motion.
he could see only the child
and hear only the sound of his rifle

he waited a long time to die,
but death was something
he could only look at,
his Sergeant stopping him from
getting too close,
a mother tugging at her son’s bloodied shirt.

If There Is Something A Bit Startling

for Martin Peretz
after Edward Said

a crazed Arab, to be sure,
but crazed in the distinctive ways
of his culture he is intoxicated
by language, fantasy and
Reality abhors compromise –
always blames others for his predicament.

Feb. 4, 2002

The strike was in Paktia province.
“A decision was made to fire
The Hellfire missile.
It was fired” at the tall man in long robes.

How many times do you have to clear your throat
To lie like you do?

“We’re convinced that it was an appropriate target.
We do not know yet exactly who it was.”

We do not know yet who it was,
We are convinced it was an appropriate target.

An appropriate target for our unmanned drone,
With enough explosives to penetrate a village and never pull out.

He expected the identities of the three people to prove “interesting”
To prove a war was required to stop grown men from collecting
Scrap metal in broad daylight
In the country to which they belonged.

sweat-soaked bed,
burdened by my weight which grows heavier
with every moment I spend straddling the line dividing the light
and the dark which tears through the souls of people
who have known both.

the last time this window was open my brother fell out
and now he spends his days drawing with a package of
crayons which melt when faced with the son of reality,
a classical painting in a museum of modern art.

P.W. Singer: Wired for War

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