PackingHeat
New Here
I spent a year in Mosul, Iraq 2005-2006. I saw plenty of combat and dead bodies or what was left. I was hit by an IED while being my commanders replacement gunner. His was on leave. Mother f*cker lol. I went quite a while without being hit. I roll out with him once and bam. At least I got my CAB from this. Since it seemed I was never gonna get one from fire fights. Literally got in a fire fight our first day out. Some haji in a burka shaking his AK like Tony Montana shooting at me. I thought is this retard really serious? As I heard the bullets pop above me. There were kids around I told them to get behind the Humvee. It was an open soccer field so the kids would have to ran a good distance to get out of harms way. I shot the dude and 172nd badasses rolled up 1 minute later to take over.
One day we were doing checks at our new IP station. We had just switched stations with our second squad because they had issues with the IP commander. Ie he was a little piece of shit faggot that would randomly grab his IPs and make out with them in front of us. I'm sure there were more issues they had. This dude was a station commander and he acted like this. Imagine how it was training these immature f*cks. Anyways, he randomly told me "I kill you" in his broken ass haji English. I've never even talked to this f*ck before. I said "WHAT THE f*ck DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?" I started raising my Saw at him. My team leader grabbed me and calmed me down. The next day an IP truck was towing a car with a rope to the station. The entrance to the station was rough dirt. So luckily the rope broke. It was actually a VBIED. I would have been f*cking incinerated. I was outside the station, but inside the 10ft walls. I remember asking my gunner from just outside of our Humvee ( I had moved up to driver) wtf was that? there was dust everywhere inside the compound. Did we just get mortared? No, it was a Vbied. The hajis then proceeded to start firing at us. That's when I went up stairs to return fire with two buddies. I was shot in the back of my vest. (I was heading downstairs to give my squad leader an update, 3 of us were upstairs returning fire). I remember seeing an IP who was in a guard tower at the time of the blast. His pupils filled all of his iris, he looked like a demon. He was conscious but unresponsive to anything. At this time 2ID had also took over as land owners. We had 172nd striker brigade before, they were legit. After the fire fight was done. It lasted probably about 60 minutes. More than enough time to get from the fob to our location. These douche bag 2ID guys show up and their LT was laughing saying they were in the middle of lunch. To which I'm sure they finished. f*cking pussy! You should have picked another MOS. After 2ID took over we rarely saw them outside the wire. Unless we were QRF we never ate hot chow beside dinner or midnight chow. I survived by giving this cool little kid we called Aladdin money to bring me back bread occasionally.
I also Helped evacuate a van that was hit in front of us by an EFP. I'm pretty sure it was meant for us. It was full of 4 normal sized civilians and a 400+ lbs Iraqi female. Some how it took off almost all their legs and or feet. There was blood and sinew everywhere. The 400+ woman's back was all torn up. Which still puzzles me, because she was in the back seat and the Efp hit in the center of the van. One of the males leg was blown off right at the crotch, so there was nothing we could really do fo him. They were all in shock. I remember setting a stretcher down on the inside van step. It was sitting crooked. So I checked underneath and there was a swollen blown off foot. It took us a while to get the 400+ out. My gloves kept sliding out. Little did I know every time my nomex gloves slid they were accumulating chunks of flesh inside. We were covered in blood so I didn't really notice. After we medivac them I took my gloves off and the smell and view made me gag a few times. Chunks were falling out. I'll never forget the smell, it was like a mix of iron, fish and shit. I still have trouble eating meats because of that. Seeing dead bodies was fine, but having that shit on me messed me up. Every time I see meats I think of it.
My Lt was also Kia during the last few months of our deployment. Which eats me alive. Our 3rd squad was in the safest place in Iraq... Kurdistan. They were driving to Mosul, I can't really remember why. One of their gunners was on leave. So they took our ASV gunner. I honestly think ASVs are garbage. Sure you're way safer than a Humvee. However, You're completely enclosed and can't see shit. You never get the real experience of war. They also never returned fire. Except that one time they had an AD retuning to base. On their drive from Kurdistan to Mosul they had a Humvee that would overheat and drive super slow. A VBIED drove up beside them and detonated. My LT was instantly killed. The gunner had burns and inhaled fire. I always wonder, what if I was there? I was the lead gunner for my squad. I would never let a mother f*cker get that close to our Humvee. He would have been lit the f*ck up! I remember getting the news on the fob, my platoon started balling. It f*cking sucked, we were almost home. Why the f*ck did that happen? If anyone died, it was supposed to be us in Mosul. They were escorted back to base after. One of the team leaders from that squad started crying and asked us "where were we? We should have helped." He told us there were children laughing after it happened. I hope those kids are dead now from the war! Another note about Humvees, ours would over heat and shut off. The wonderful mechanics said pour water over the engine. That was their f*cking solution. Are you kidding me? My Humvee also died in the middle of a fire fight. Luckily I was in the gun and rounds only hit my turret and straight through the sheet metal in the rear of the Humvee.
Another thing that really f*cked us up was going to the KIA funeral ceremonies on the fob. Our squad leader would have us go occasionally. Seeing kids my age, 19 years old just gone. All because of a pointless war started with lies. f*ck you Bush.
The preceding years after Iraq were filled with way too much alcohol and promiscuous sex. It was like it helped me forget and actually feel alive. Looking back now I would have never acted like that. It was f*cking stupid of me. I wish I hadn't done this.
Finally after 11 years of being a monster, I'm starting to get help. This by far is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. Even harder than SFAS. I've never talked to anyone seriously about my ptsd, not even the Va clinician. I give her vague details. Once I start to talk about it, my eyes water and I force myself to stop. It's very hard for me to show weakness. She said I had anxiety disorder w/ ptsd and depression, but it's not official until I go through the process where the VA calls you a liar for 30 minutes while "evaluating" you. I do have an appointment for an official ptsd evaluation now. To which I'll actually tell the truth about my ptsd now. When I went for my back claim and migraines the doc interrogated me. Which I understand there's a lot of f*ck faces who lie to get higher claims. I asked him don't you have my MRI? I'm pretty sure you can't fake MRIs. He didn't, figures it's the VA.
If you've been in the military, you know the famous medical advice. "Take Ibuprofen and drink some water."
Ever since I joined as a pvt I was told to lie about being injured. I was also discouraged from ever going to sick call. I think this is a HUGE problem in the military. We have a cowboy culture and we never want to seem weak.
I have now realized I needed to do something because my spouse said she would divorce me if I didn't. To which I thank her, I needed the push. So, I went to the VA to get help with my ptsd and was on Zoloft for a few months until I just couldn't take the side effects. They never seemed to go away. While on Zoloft I felt almost like my old self before Iraq. I was upbeat and loving to my family. It was at this point I realized how horrible of a person I was. I am now tapering off Zoloft and it's a f*cking nightmare. Almost as if I just returned from Iraq. Mood swings, guilt, depression, angrier than normal outburst, Anxiety attacks to the point of almost passing out while driving to college.
I honestly don't think I'll survive another round of meds. That's why I thought I'd try here.
Holy shit this was way longer than I intended. It felt nice to write about it though, since it's so tough to talk about.
One day we were doing checks at our new IP station. We had just switched stations with our second squad because they had issues with the IP commander. Ie he was a little piece of shit faggot that would randomly grab his IPs and make out with them in front of us. I'm sure there were more issues they had. This dude was a station commander and he acted like this. Imagine how it was training these immature f*cks. Anyways, he randomly told me "I kill you" in his broken ass haji English. I've never even talked to this f*ck before. I said "WHAT THE f*ck DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?" I started raising my Saw at him. My team leader grabbed me and calmed me down. The next day an IP truck was towing a car with a rope to the station. The entrance to the station was rough dirt. So luckily the rope broke. It was actually a VBIED. I would have been f*cking incinerated. I was outside the station, but inside the 10ft walls. I remember asking my gunner from just outside of our Humvee ( I had moved up to driver) wtf was that? there was dust everywhere inside the compound. Did we just get mortared? No, it was a Vbied. The hajis then proceeded to start firing at us. That's when I went up stairs to return fire with two buddies. I was shot in the back of my vest. (I was heading downstairs to give my squad leader an update, 3 of us were upstairs returning fire). I remember seeing an IP who was in a guard tower at the time of the blast. His pupils filled all of his iris, he looked like a demon. He was conscious but unresponsive to anything. At this time 2ID had also took over as land owners. We had 172nd striker brigade before, they were legit. After the fire fight was done. It lasted probably about 60 minutes. More than enough time to get from the fob to our location. These douche bag 2ID guys show up and their LT was laughing saying they were in the middle of lunch. To which I'm sure they finished. f*cking pussy! You should have picked another MOS. After 2ID took over we rarely saw them outside the wire. Unless we were QRF we never ate hot chow beside dinner or midnight chow. I survived by giving this cool little kid we called Aladdin money to bring me back bread occasionally.
I also Helped evacuate a van that was hit in front of us by an EFP. I'm pretty sure it was meant for us. It was full of 4 normal sized civilians and a 400+ lbs Iraqi female. Some how it took off almost all their legs and or feet. There was blood and sinew everywhere. The 400+ woman's back was all torn up. Which still puzzles me, because she was in the back seat and the Efp hit in the center of the van. One of the males leg was blown off right at the crotch, so there was nothing we could really do fo him. They were all in shock. I remember setting a stretcher down on the inside van step. It was sitting crooked. So I checked underneath and there was a swollen blown off foot. It took us a while to get the 400+ out. My gloves kept sliding out. Little did I know every time my nomex gloves slid they were accumulating chunks of flesh inside. We were covered in blood so I didn't really notice. After we medivac them I took my gloves off and the smell and view made me gag a few times. Chunks were falling out. I'll never forget the smell, it was like a mix of iron, fish and shit. I still have trouble eating meats because of that. Seeing dead bodies was fine, but having that shit on me messed me up. Every time I see meats I think of it.
My Lt was also Kia during the last few months of our deployment. Which eats me alive. Our 3rd squad was in the safest place in Iraq... Kurdistan. They were driving to Mosul, I can't really remember why. One of their gunners was on leave. So they took our ASV gunner. I honestly think ASVs are garbage. Sure you're way safer than a Humvee. However, You're completely enclosed and can't see shit. You never get the real experience of war. They also never returned fire. Except that one time they had an AD retuning to base. On their drive from Kurdistan to Mosul they had a Humvee that would overheat and drive super slow. A VBIED drove up beside them and detonated. My LT was instantly killed. The gunner had burns and inhaled fire. I always wonder, what if I was there? I was the lead gunner for my squad. I would never let a mother f*cker get that close to our Humvee. He would have been lit the f*ck up! I remember getting the news on the fob, my platoon started balling. It f*cking sucked, we were almost home. Why the f*ck did that happen? If anyone died, it was supposed to be us in Mosul. They were escorted back to base after. One of the team leaders from that squad started crying and asked us "where were we? We should have helped." He told us there were children laughing after it happened. I hope those kids are dead now from the war! Another note about Humvees, ours would over heat and shut off. The wonderful mechanics said pour water over the engine. That was their f*cking solution. Are you kidding me? My Humvee also died in the middle of a fire fight. Luckily I was in the gun and rounds only hit my turret and straight through the sheet metal in the rear of the Humvee.
Another thing that really f*cked us up was going to the KIA funeral ceremonies on the fob. Our squad leader would have us go occasionally. Seeing kids my age, 19 years old just gone. All because of a pointless war started with lies. f*ck you Bush.
The preceding years after Iraq were filled with way too much alcohol and promiscuous sex. It was like it helped me forget and actually feel alive. Looking back now I would have never acted like that. It was f*cking stupid of me. I wish I hadn't done this.
Finally after 11 years of being a monster, I'm starting to get help. This by far is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. Even harder than SFAS. I've never talked to anyone seriously about my ptsd, not even the Va clinician. I give her vague details. Once I start to talk about it, my eyes water and I force myself to stop. It's very hard for me to show weakness. She said I had anxiety disorder w/ ptsd and depression, but it's not official until I go through the process where the VA calls you a liar for 30 minutes while "evaluating" you. I do have an appointment for an official ptsd evaluation now. To which I'll actually tell the truth about my ptsd now. When I went for my back claim and migraines the doc interrogated me. Which I understand there's a lot of f*ck faces who lie to get higher claims. I asked him don't you have my MRI? I'm pretty sure you can't fake MRIs. He didn't, figures it's the VA.
If you've been in the military, you know the famous medical advice. "Take Ibuprofen and drink some water."
Ever since I joined as a pvt I was told to lie about being injured. I was also discouraged from ever going to sick call. I think this is a HUGE problem in the military. We have a cowboy culture and we never want to seem weak.
I have now realized I needed to do something because my spouse said she would divorce me if I didn't. To which I thank her, I needed the push. So, I went to the VA to get help with my ptsd and was on Zoloft for a few months until I just couldn't take the side effects. They never seemed to go away. While on Zoloft I felt almost like my old self before Iraq. I was upbeat and loving to my family. It was at this point I realized how horrible of a person I was. I am now tapering off Zoloft and it's a f*cking nightmare. Almost as if I just returned from Iraq. Mood swings, guilt, depression, angrier than normal outburst, Anxiety attacks to the point of almost passing out while driving to college.
I honestly don't think I'll survive another round of meds. That's why I thought I'd try here.
Holy shit this was way longer than I intended. It felt nice to write about it though, since it's so tough to talk about.
