War Stories - FUBAR Edition

Can we have the military veterans/active duty personnel of Sup Forums share stories from Iraq and Afghanistan.

Thanks.

> Non-U.S. military personnel can share stories as well. If you have already told a story before, tell a new one.

m.youtube.com/watch?v=LTHVluk9ueo

Other urls found in this thread:

youtube.com/watch?v=Mcf9CLMQuRQ
youtu.be/KuP7ddbb8Ls
youtu.be/3he0pdXjINc
youtu.be/50_iRIcxsz0
youtube.com/watch?v=Bc7A5eFrX8U&t=890s
youtu.be/gBU6GkseD1w
twitter.com/SFWRedditImages

I have some cool arma stories. :^)

>be transgender
>someone doesn't think I am a woman and says I'm mentally ill
>get PTSD

Bump

No

> be a fag
> jerk off to anime

Bump

Why was 6 afraid of 7
6 hasn't been the same since he left Vietnam. Every time he closes his eyes, he's sees Charlie hiding in the darkness of the forest. Not that you could ever see those bastards, mind you. They were fast and they knew their way around the jungle. He remembers the looks on the boy's faces when they walked into that village and... oh Jesus. He shouldn't think about that now. Sometimes he still hears Tex's slow southern drawl. He remembers the smell of Brooklyn's cigarettes. He always had a pack of Luckys. But the boys are gone now... he knows that. It's--it's just that he forgets sometimes. And sometimes the way that 7 looks at him... it makes him think. Sets him on edge. And he feels like he's back there... In the jungle... In the darkness.

7 has a hook for a hand as well, which is very scary.

The flight to Vietnam took approximately 16 hours with a two hour stopover in Alaska where the plane was refueled. A normal breakfast in the airport in Alaska cost approximately $10.00; not cheap for 1969. We arrived in Vietnam at about 4:00 a.m. Our arrival point was Cam Rahn Bay, a huge military facility with many aircraft and a large transit area. I arrived there on November 1, 1969. Again, the usual in processing, then we were put on a bus which took us to the barracks where we stayed for a little more than a day. The bus had wire mesh over the windows, to prevent grenades from being thrown in, we were told by the bus driver.

By the time we arrived at the barracks it was almost 7:00 a.m. and it was already hot. I was to find out that the normal daytime temperature in Vietnam was over 100 degrees and got up to 115 degrees. In the mountains of the Central Highlands where I was to serve, it might get down to the 80s at night and we would be freezing because of the radical change from the daytime. I decided I needed a shower so I went to the large shower facility behind the barracks. I got undressed in the alcove area then went into the shower area. There I met a Vietnamese woman who was washing clothes in a large metal tub. She waived and said "Hi GI." If it didn’t bother her it didn’t bother me, so I took my shower without worrying about her.

Basically, we just killed time at Cam Rahn, although we did get to go to the NCO club the first night for several beers and to listen to the Filipino band singing popular rock and roll tunes where the "Ls" sounded like "Rs." The men assigned to Cam Rahn generally ignored us and we were all fairly amazed by the place. It was a huge expanse of sand because the ocean was close and it was easily 500 meters from our barracks to the base camp perimeter with all the concertina wire and machine gun emplacements.

The next day we were all called into a large meeting room, they read off our unit assignments, and told us which bus to take to get transportation to our various divisions. I was assigned to the 4th Infantry Division which, at that time, was headquartered at Camp Enari near Pleiku City which is in the Central Highlands of Vietnam in the military area called II Corps. The far South was IV Corps and was largely a huge mass of rice paddies and swamps. Above that was III Corps which included Saigon, the capital of South Vietnam and the largest city on the Vietnam Peninsula. I believe that area was also largely rice paddies and small villages, not including Saigon. One of my friends from NCO School, John Gilbertson, who also graduated as a Staff Sergeant from NCOC, served there in the 25th Division and he later told me that one of their biggest problems was trench foot because they humped through wet land so long. There were also many more booby traps in the III Corps and IV Corps areas than in the Central Highlands. I Corps, the most Northern part of South Vietnam, was mostly a Marine area of operations (AO),

and it has the highest mountains in South Vietnam. The Central Highlands seemed like a good deal. I saw my friend John about a year after I returned from Vietnam. He had just been released from Walter Reed Army Hospital where he spent the better part of a year recovering from wounds he received in Vietnam. He will walk with a limp for the rest of his life. He went on to work as a counselor for juvenile delinquents and I suspect he was good at that.

One of the amazing facts about Vietnam is that it is a wonderfully beautiful country. I discovered that over and over when I flew on helicopters or in C-135s and looked down. The beaches in Vietnam may be the most beautiful beaches in the world and the mountains where I was were truly gorgeous with many impressive water falls, lush forests, and broad plains with rice paddies and rubber plantations. Everything is green. Of course, when we were there, the land was also pocked marked with the results of bombs and artillery shells. Some areas looked like the skin of someone with really bad acne. I understand that we dropped more ordinance there than in W.W.I and W.W.II combined.

C-135 trips were often fairly interesting because they normally involved some Vietnamese military types and sometimes some civilians as well. It appeared that many Vietnamese military people traveled with their families and often their pigs and chickens as well. When we got to Pleiku Air Force Base I got on a bus which took us to Camp Enari. Again, the windows of the bus were covered with wire mesh.

Camp Enari was another huge base camp. It was devoid of trees and the land looked much like what you find in South Georgia, lots and lots of red clay and plenty of dust which kicked up every time a helicopter came in. When we got there we had more in-processing and were then assigned to transit barracks. In many ways the base camp looked a lot like a regular Army facility back in the states. Among the lessons I learned my first day there, however, is that the United States of America was not referred to in these terms. Rather, it was referred to as "the World." The psychology of that impressed me immediately. It was clear that soldiers in Vietnam did not think of Vietnam as part of the real world but rather some sort of bad nightmare place which you wanted to leave as soon as you could.

...

Some guys started their "short timer" calendars shortly after they got to Vietnam. That was a mistake because once you started counting the days you had left on your tour, they started to go by more slowly. I did not start counting until I had a little less than 6 months left and I am sure the days went by quicker before I started counting. For us, the tour was 365 days. My Dad served in Vietnam for 14 months from late 1960 to early 1962 and I believe the Marines typically had a 14 month tour early in the war. By the time I got there, however, everyone was serving 365 days.

The guys stationed at Camp Enari who were short (had little time left to serve) were obnoxious about that. They would ask FNGs how many days they had left which would be about 362-363, and then they would say: "I have less time in hours to spend in the God Damn Army than you have days left to spend in Vietnam." Other comments included: "I am so short I don’t have time for a long conversation." "I am so short, I can play handball against the curb." "I am so short I left yesterday." etc. etc. etc. I told myself that I would never do that to new guys, however, I was just as bad when I got short. War can make one cynical.

We spent about five days in the transit area going to all sorts of classes and orientations to Vietnam. At one point we even got issued M-16s and went on a sweep outside the base camp for a couple of miles. Even guys who were not infantry got to go on this excursion which was interesting because they were not pleased. At the end of our sweep, we went to a shooting range and fired our

M-16s for a couple of hours. While we were there we bought pineapple from a Montagnard who used a long machete to carve off the outside for us. The Montagnards charged a dollar for whatever they sold you; one banana one dollar, one pineapple one dollar, etc.

When I finished my orientation, I was put on a deuce and a half (a very large truck) and taken to my new battalion headquarters which was in the division’s base. My battalion was the 2/35th or "Blue Cacti" which was the battalion’s symbol. The battalion had a long and distinguished history going back to the Spanish-American War. There I was met by the battalion supply officer who was a captain who had been a first sergeant, then went to OCS (Officers Candidate School). He was a crusty old guy who appeared to be a fine soldier. He issued us gear including an M-16 with ammunition, rucksack, four grenades, two smoke grenades, two hand held flares, a claymore mine, two canteens, a five quart water bag, a gas mask, a poncho liner, a poncho, air mattress, and three days of C-Rations (C-Rats). Then he took us to meet our company clerk. In my case it was "C" Company or "Charlie" Company. The clerk’s job was to get us into his paperwork files, then get us out into the field. He told me I was being assigned to the 2nd Platoon.

Speaking of gear, it was amazing what we carried in the boonies. Most guys had an M-16 and two or three bandoleers of M-16 ammo with approximately 8 to 10 magazines in each bandoleer. This ammo weighed approximately 10 pounds. We generally wore the bandoleers strapped across our chests. The machine gunners carried an M-60 machine gun and approximately 200 to 500 rounds of ammo for the machine gun. The M-60 machine gun weighed approximately 25 pounds and the ammo weighed approximately 15 pounds. The guys with the M-40 grenade launchers carried it and a vest full of ammo with extra ammo in their ruck sacks. This ammo weighed at least 15 pounds.

We also all had pistol belts and some guys added the harness that went with the pistol belt. I did not wear a harness because I never figured out how to make it fit right and it also added to what was on my shoulders with the ruck sack straps.

During my time at Camp Enari, I had occasion to read a newspaper from the States, I cannot remember from what town. Some guys had newspapers sent to them periodically by their folks from back home. The remarkable thing about this newspaper was that it had a story about the new draft system. Beginning in the Fall of 1969, guys were to be drafted by lottery according to their birthday. College deferments had been eliminated the previous year. I was to learn the significance of the new draft system a couple of years later in Graduate School where we read a book entitled Little Groups of Friends and Neighbors. It was about the old Army draft system. It turned out that the draft system was very corrupt. There were draft boards in every community that decided who got drafted and the result was that draftees were disproportionately the sons of the poor, the working poor, and the nonwhite. I had believed that, if you were 18 and were not in college getting a college deferment or did not have a physical problem that made you 4-F (unable to serve in the military due to physical problems), you got drafted. That was not the way it was. Years later, upon reflection, I concluded that the expansion of the anti-war movement, which began in 1969, and the pressure from the general public, not just college students, to get out of Vietnam, was directly related to the beginning of the draft of the sons of the middle class. I still believe that.

OP, why does that Marine have a BFA on the end of his M16 if he's in Afghanistan?

Broke my back while trying to join the 75th Ranger Regiment ask me anything

I left the Army on September 8, 1970 and started graduate school on September 16, 1970; there was no time to decompress. I am a bit surprised that I did as well in graduate school as I did, especially that first quarter, because I was suffering from culture shock for several weeks after returning home from Vietnam. My class in graduate school had about 30 people including only three veterans and only two of us who had been combat veterans. It was clear that most of the people I met at the university held GIs in disdain. We were considered either "baby killers" or stupid for getting drafted. I remember feeling bitter at the time. I was against the war also, however, for different reasons than the college anti-war protesters. I was against getting GIs killed for no apparent reason since it was obvious that the U.S. government was not committed to winning the war. It took me several years to get over this bitterness. I would encounter this bad attitude about GIs again during my eight years as a college professor at three large state universities; the University of Illinois-Chicago Circle, the University of Oklahoma, and Texas A&M University. In each of the three Political Science departments where I served there were about 30 faculty members and I met only four veterans among them.

The only compliment I ever received about my service in Vietnam came from my former platoon leader, Lt. Glenn Troester in an article he wrote for The Ivey Leaf which was the newspaper of the 4th Infantry Division. It was published after I left Vietnam and he sent me a copy with a hand written note above which said: "There it is!" I was very touched because it gave me pride in what I had done, flaws notwithstanding

He's a pacifist, but doesn't want to let his team down.

Navy here, I flew F-18s. Deployed to Bahrain for 6 months and spent my time banging Russian hookers and getting drunk. Came back to the States, got free law school and toll roads because of an air medal, and now I make 3X more than you every will. You should have joined up!

Camp Pendleton

Why are you bragging to NEETs if your life is so great?

Who else is awake at 2am?

>War Stories
>>Posts picture of boot with his BFA still attached to his rifle.

You must be at Finkelturd and McBurgertein LLP preparing a deal for (((them))). Is it worth it? Are you on the partner track?

No, I do class actions. I make big bux off of vaginal mesh mishaps.

Yeah, plaintiffs' lawyers can make big bux too but they are looked down on by the Latham and Burgerstein types. How much do you make and what is your work/life balance like?

Well, I have paralegals and new guys to do most of the court filings and briefs. I usually have to go to court once or twice a week. Since it's a class action is a battle between my 28 year old new graduates and Pfizer's. We charge nothing to represent, but pull down 50% of the settlement as profit. I need about 30% to cover my costs for the office, and so I take home 20% less taxes. Last year it was about $5.6. If they made a better vaginal mesh I wouldn't need to protect the public like I do.

the dead goat game is actually a thing
Afghans get really in to it
being rich enough to afford a horse to play buskashi was a status symbol
rules are bullshit, everything is made up on the fly
about 20 seconds after the vid I almost got trampled

Yeah the (((medical industry))) is a never ending source of problems. Are you in NY, Boston, or DC? Also what caliber of law school did you go to?

Poor goat :(

I'm in Kansas City, of all places. I didn't go to an ivy league law school either. I just care about vaginal mesh quality.

>be me
>see some air force guys hanging out
>man, bombing mudskins does sound pretty fun
>join air force
>too excited to wait
>buy my own gun and equipment
>go down to the small runway
>awesome, there's already an op going down
>board plane
>everyone in civilian gear
>this must be some real covert shit
>give commanding officer a coy wink
>warface.jpg
>sit down in front of the door, can't wait for action
>ask pilot when we start killing nigs
>tells me he doesn't know what I mean
>I wink and nod
>yeah you're right, we need to get to Africa first
>plane takes off
>the other guys look real nervous
>fuckin pussies, must be all the trannies in the service now, baka
>no matter, I'll show these sissies how murrica fights
>pilot calls someone on the ground
>apparently there is a terrorist on the plane
>holyfuckingshit.jpg
>my first fucking op and Muhammad Al-Kaboom is on board
>it's go time
>tell everyone not to panic, just get us to africa
>about to go into the holds to look for the madman

>two jets approach from the rear
>oh shit, they're gonna shoot us down to kill the terrorist
>pilot tells the jets the terrorist is hwite
>man PC nonsense has really taken it's toll
>grab the radio from the cuck pilot
>tell the jets not to worry, private user is here to take care of the problem
>assholes tell me we have to land or they'll shoot us down
>tell them I ain't no cuck, and we're going to finish the job in Africa
>one guy starts kvetching
>other pilot says fuck this guy's right
>he falls back and engages the jew pilot
>they both dive and I lose them below
>godspeed user, probably was a Sup Forumsack
>things calm down, at least for me
>the rest of my beta crew is shitting themselves
>finally get to africa
>see some mudhuts clustered together
>big one in the middle, must be the kang
>tell pilot to release the bombs
>he tells me there are no bombs
>wtf kind of military is this
>tell him to release the shitter container
>direct hit
>only like 3 guys were even happy about the success
>land plane in some village
>everyone runs away
>go to the embassy to tell them my mission was a success
>they tell me I can't go home and that I am a terrorist
>wtf the military sucks now
>walking around trying to adjust to my new life as a nigger
>find mudhut that we hit
>turns out it was a beaver dam hut
>decide to build a pyramid for the lulz
>show these faggots who wuz what
>lay last brick on the top
>see jet coming at me
>hovers to a stop
>it's the pilot who helped me out
>says we're gonna need you on the domestic front, user
>tfw I was the hero we don't deserve

Fair enough. I was briefly involved in plaintiff side litigation as well. I knew a little bit about mesh cases. Horrible injuries. Doing products liability at all made me want to live in a cave eating nothing but fruits and vegetables and avoiding all of the (((products))) that we are using today that we are convinced are harmless. Pfizer must have an enormous slush fund to pay the legal fees, though. They are being sued left and right.

>my grandfather's brother is driving trucks and operating road graders as a civilian for the Portuguese army between Mozambique and South Africa
>carries a sterling submachine gun in case of commie nignogs
>is driving truck through rural area with jungle
>flat tire
>starts replacing it with a spare tire
>gets nervous all of a sudden, like he is being watched
>puts on spare tire fast as hell and drives off immediately
>later goes home to Portugal
>eventually meets a black guy he used to know in Mozambique
>the black guy says that he was with a bunch of guerillas that day and they watched him changing the tire
>He says, "We could have killed you. We were going to kill you."

Ben Tre was a city of rain. It always rained in those little gook villages near the canals. The rain in Vietnam always stunk like cabbage water fermenting in a toilet, yet the rain in Ben Tre was different. When they dropped the first shells on the city, chunks of meat and cement went hurdling into the skies. I still remember the feeling of rubble and blood coming down on my face. I knew where we were making the drop, so I snuck into the city and made sure I'd be at ground zero. I only had my sidearm with me, it was all I could sneak in. As soon as the shell dropped, I started firing into anything that moved. The blasts had fucked up my hearing, so the only way I knew I was empty was when I pointed at something and it didn't die. Eventually, I'd emptied out my last magazine. In front of me was an old woman, kneeling down beside her husband. His stomach was eviscerated, and she was trying desperately to hold his intestines in. I gave them a makeshift burial, by stomping them into the ground with my size 12 boots. No sooner had I stomped that old woman dead than another shell landed a few dozen feet away from me. More bodies went into the air, more debris, more blood. It all rained back down on me, pelting my skin, and yet I felt no pain. Instead, I was singing in that rain.

I'm almost of the opinion that they build a percentage in to their costs to cover the class actions. It kills me that Mesothelioma settlements are still a thing 30 years after asbestos became illegal.

I kek'd

How'd you break it? Rucking? What did you do afterwards?
Trying to join the same regiment next year.

They definitely do that. Same way they calculate a percentage for (((legal fees))) so they don't care when Cleary and Paul Hastings charge them $40 per dinner per associate per night.

And yeah I think we all assumed that Meso cases would be gone by now, but apparently they are still going to be a thing for a while. I have a feeling the next big products liability areas will be computers and processed food. I believe there have already been a number of lawsuits re processed and fast food, but the science/social intolerance just isn't strong enough yet. But I believe in our lifetimes we will likely see some big electronics and food companies pay up for the cancer and diabetes they are causing.

What's ridiculous about it is that it's whatever meme product people decide they hate. Trans-fats, whatever scramble of letters is currently bad as a plastic, etc. It's not driven by science, just emotion. I like to think I take that emotion and turn it in to a larger number in my brokerage account

Afgani men fuck little boys called chi boys in afganistan

youtube.com/watch?v=Mcf9CLMQuRQ

>Can we have

Well, also consider that the law is presently made by morons who run off of emotion. Honestly I think the legal system is fucked. I don't know how long you've been out of law school, but there are some very stupid people coming down the pipe these days, even at the top tier schools. They believe in things like determinism so all criminal law is effectively void and all wealth is ill-gotten (hence it is just to redistribute it to underprivileged people-even though this is incompatible with their determinism). Lawsuits may be a sham now, but they're only going to get worse.

We'll probably see jury instructions that force juries to take "white privilege" into account, for example, or the reversal of the presumption of innocence (something California already tried to do with affirmative consent codes).

If you can navigate your way through the flames to make a nice living, though, good for you I guess.

I know that we are fast approaching the time when a "jury of your peers" is no longer something that can save you. A defendant in a big city is going to hit a brick wall soon when a jury decides he is or isn't worthy of a settlement. I rue the day because it's going to hurt my bottom line. What kills me is that according to most race relations have improved since 2008, but it's gotten incredibly worse. This is the perfect example.

Yes, you are clearly correct. There was a reason why the defendants in the Freddy Gray case opted for a bench trial; they knew that a jury of their peers could not be trusted to properly apply the law given their racial biases. The media of course would never say that white men couldn't be tried fairly in Baltimore, but to anyone watching more closely than the 2-3 minute snippets on TV, that was clear, and reinforced by the conduct of the prosecutor.


I would think that your pocketbook would be safe(r) in that regard as people would seem to be less prone to racial judgments in a case over nothing more than money, but I suppose you would know better there. It's possible that it's gotten so bad that a jury would award/deny an award based on race.

In my mind, though, it's useless to try to approach this problem from a legal point of view. It goes like this:

society-->philosophy-->culture-->law. We are seeing the symptoms but the problems are beyond us or anything we can individually affect.

Ice

You're 100% right, and as for now the Treyvon's and Freddies are politically charged trials.
Imagine a day when you get 30 Meso guys up for a class action who worked in a navy yard in Philly. They get a Philly jury, but it's 12 black welfare guys. That's where it gets sticky.

I see your point. Can't you avoid that in voir dire though?

Well it depends on the jury pool. Also, you have to worry about being called a racist.

Damn

my bases

youtu.be/KuP7ddbb8Ls

youtu.be/3he0pdXjINc

8/10

Makes sense.

Back in '72 I was in Nam, trapped
behind enemy lines, lying in a rat
hole with my entire squad dead.
They thought they killed everybody,
and except for me, they were right.
But it wasn't for lack of trying.
A grenade blew up right next to me,
that's why I'm so pretty.

They thought I was dead, so I
played dead. They dumped all the
bodies in a ditch. All I could do
was lie there playing possum. Dead
bodies under me, dead bodies on top
of me, listening to the enemy laugh
and joke hour after hour after
hour...

and then when I came back to my
senses, I realized I had killed the
entire V.C. squadron
singlehandedly. My bayonet had
blood and chunks of yellow flesh on
it like some cannibal shish kabob.
And to this day I don't have the
slightest idea how I

youtu.be/50_iRIcxsz0

Jumping with the 240 Bravo in full kit, landed a lil weird and my back got fucked, broke a vertebra in my lumbar.

Not afgan story, my story

Great grand pa fought in world war. After he died i went with my grandparent to clean his house out. Found a stack of 2 dollar bills, kept that to myself. (Thought it was 1000 bucks was only like 60 :( Anyway grandad is in attic clearing it out and starts passing down real rpgs to me and i hand them to my gma. Wtf i was so scared they would blow up, i was probably 14 at the time. Grandma passed them to her brother who said he was going to throw them off the chesepeake bay at night.

Anyone fishing or setting nets beware lol

>zogbot recruitment thread
Make sure you let your momma know that your going to defend the interests of isreal before you go.
captcha: "ROTARY TEMPLE"

...

Bay bridge* which he really did, on the norther end. While driving across he tossed over 12 rpgs out the window of his truck in the water.

Cry some more for me, Ahmed.

kek. um what sweetie? Want to formulate an argument any time soon orrrrrrr????? You're stupid.

Real sorry to hear that user. Did you get medically discharged or did you become a POG afterwards?

Holy duck if they would not make vaginal fucking meshes and drop dead and stop feeding people crap we peasants could have a shekel or two to ourselves for once.
Thanks for your service...in the Air Force.

Navy. I kind of feel bad, 99% of the legal system is bullshit.

1:20 gets my dick soooooo fucking hard.

Why didn't they? Creepy story.

> Navy
Best wishes raking it in though. Someones going to do it, may as well be a Sup Forumstard.
This is a war story thread. What does one do for an Air Medal?

This was taken during the Obama administration when you were not allowed to kill the enemy. The sound was supposed to scare them away.

To be honest? I landed and F-18 on a carrier and asked about medals. Luckily Texas is cucked enough to give anyone with any stupid medal super privileges.

no kills would be worth it IMHO

Good pix for the story

No

Wtf?

Hahaha

Muslims are fags.

my favorite Ukraine clips
youtube.com/watch?v=Bc7A5eFrX8U&t=890s
that confused pupper must be worried

Bu

I don't like watching firefights from Ukraine because every dead person is white. It's weird.

>>tell pilot to release the bombs
>>he tells me there are no bombs
>>wtf kind of military is this
>>tell him to release the shitter container
kek/10

kek thats what i noticed aint that the thingy you put on the muzzle for firing blanks without having to reload ?

based buélgarian copter squads

youtu.be/gBU6GkseD1w