"To help capture or kill my nation’s enemies is just icing on the cake."

"Frontlines: Dispatches From U.S. Soldiers in Iraq"

Just so many mixed feelings when I read these blogs. Bottom line: it's unquestionably a *good* idea to publish these soldier's thoughts, their routines, their stories... How restricted or edited they are, I don't know. But I think that any insight and exposure to the real people fighting this fucked up war is important for us to read and learn about.

What it is: "TimesSelect has invited four members of the United States military — all active bloggers — to write about their daily lives. Three of the bloggers are now stationed in Iraq, and one has recently returned home."

One that touched me today...again, in really mixed ways...(note the musical choices of this dude) He's smart--a good writer. He's exactly my age. He has freckles. Whew.

March13 10:10 pm
One Marine’s Routine
First Lt. Jeffrey D. Barnett
My average day is actually pretty predictable when I’m not out on an operation. Being a creature of habit I try to stick to the routine I have found. It seems the more I repeat my endless iterations of eating, sleeping, working, and exercising, the faster the calendar pages flip. Now, it’s not as if I am hating life out here. On the contrary, the opportunity to have a positive impact during a pivotal point in our history is the type of stuff dreams are made of. To help capture or kill my nation’s enemies is just icing on the cake. However, small, achievable goals make for a happy deployment.
I generally wake up at 0600 and start my morning fumbling with my sleeping bag zipper in a futile effort to free myself from the green sarcophagus that kept me so warm through the night. This goes on for about 30 seconds until either I get lucky and it unzips or I just slide myself out of it in a fit of frustration. After that I walk the 200 meters to the shower and then return to my trailer to get dressed to an iTunes playlist of my choosing, usually of the angry variety — Metallica, Pantera, Dope, Korn, Rammstein, Linkin Park, Megahertz, Motley Crue, Three Days Grace, Disturbed. Not exactly easy listening.
Next, it’s time for chow, so I walk 300 meters in the opposite direction to the “Little Vegas” chow hall at the edge of Camp Grizzly. There I dine on a traditional American breakfast of eggs, biscuits, pork, and fruit juice. The eggs are a tricky subject, because as of yet I have been unable to convince the chow hall workers that I only want a small portion of eggs. It appears you will either get 18 ounces of eggs or you will get none at all. This is not up for discussion, and any protest you make during the serving of your eggs will only illicit another 18-ounce scoop from the now quickly depleting vat in front of you.