Back in the S.F.B.A

Coming home - or going anywhere other than LA for that matter gives me juicy ideas about life and stuff...something under discussed in travel magazines and other tourist notions of travel - that it does something for the mind and soul. Granted, in this case, it's just coming home, but the whole shaking up the routine...

I hung with friends last night (and sister, which was a little odd, my little sister at a bar, but hey - that's growing up), and one of my friend's brother had just spent two tours in Iraq. The Marine wasn't there, but I heard some stories second hand. He didn't see much action - shot at a vehicle that wouldn't stop, but, he has Marine buddies who fought in Falluja. Apparently, the underreported news right now is that the Marines are kicking some major ass, killing loads of insurgents in the Sunni Triangle area.

Also heard a little tid bit about Somalia, the site of the Black Hawk Down story, that the Somali's were instructed not to attack the soldiers with white sleeves (which is what the Marine's wear under their uniforms, but can be seen when they roll up their sleeves in the massive heat). They were instructed to attack only the beige sleeves - Army dudes.

The Marine's are feared throughout the world by fighters. Marine's are the ones who did the awful fighting the Pacific Islands against the Japanese - Iwo Jima was a 35 day battle. If a Marine is attacked, the Marine's are trained to come back and massively retaliate with brutal and lethal force. "No one fucks with a Marine!"