Post #7: OP Hotel?

Well I fell off the wagon and now I’m drunkenly using a new Twitter account trying to get in touch with Ramadi vets and anyone who will listen. The first few people that came up under a search for “Ramadi” are people with thousands of followers so I fully realize I’m going to come across as a total douche. Hey! Look at me! I’m doing things!

I’d probably feel some sort of shame if I wasn’t hammered.

I’ll be honest…I plan on writing a book some day about my time in the Marines and especially my time in Ramadi. A small but large and selfish part of me thinks that all of this will lead to something big for me. I don’t have much going on right now. Basically it’s just this and a few good friends keeping me going.

I rest easy knowing that I’m currently doing my part to get knowledge out there about what Marines, Soldiers, Sailors etc. did in that fucked up city to make it safe.

I’m sure the Iraqi civilian populace have a different perspective on things. I’d fucking love to talk to some people on the other side. I know that some bad things happened. That’s all I’m really going to say on that matter for now.

I’ve gotten quite a few hits on this blog. Way more than I ever expected. I might have delusions of grandeur but I’m thinking that maybe I can turn this gay blog into a hub where Ramadi vets can tell their stories along with mine.

Gay Marines, readers, and the perpetually offended…don’t be gay about me using the word gay. I love you just the same. It’s 2016 for fucks sake.

I wonder how many stories are left untold by people who think they can’t tell them properly. Or by people who think that it’s just not worth it for dumb or smart reasons. Or by people who have bigger and better things going on.

I’m starting to realize that shit like this isn’t just a desperate grasp at historical immortality. I think there’s something pure and honest about wanting to be remembered…just a little. Or a lot.

Can anyone name a hero from The Philippine-American War? I can’t. What about the Boxer Rebellion? Oh wait…Smedley Fucking Butler. You get the point though I hope.

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So this picture is of OP Hotel. I think. My memory is fucked and I’m drunk.

A ton of us were on a security halt across the street from this building and from what I remember the word came down that there were bad guys in that place about to fuck us up. There must have been a count down that a few of us didn’t know about because it seemed like 90% of everybody all started lighting up that building with everything they had SIMULTANEOUSLY.

I didn’t get the memo. I ducked down in my turret like a little bitch like OH GOD WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!!!!

THUMP THUMP THUMP DAT DAT DAT DAT BOOM BOOM BOOM!!!!!!

My dumb brain is telling me that there were M2 Bradleys firing in addition to the .50 Cals and small arms. Not sure where the BOOMS and THUMPS came from in my recall. Maybe I made some of this shit up. Hard to tell these days.

I’m not sure if there were actually insurgents in OP Hotel. I’m not sure if that building was called OP Hotel. One thing I’m sure of is that IF there were insurgents there, they don’t exist any more.

Good riddance.

So here it is. Me taking a picture like a retard when I should have been pulling my trigger, shooting at nothing like a good Marine.