You hear it quite often, ‘Marines are machines’. Very literally people do not understand what this means. This goes as far back as 1775, when my Marine Corps came alive. Born out of a bar, we found wars high and far. We fought war in every land from sea to setting sea, we fight now together for all to be free.
The Military-Industrial Complex, is a never ending will of Corporate profit. Based entirely on the suffering of innocent people.
No Checks and Balances
The military expanded far beyond what anyone thought possible. So they broke down the nation’s soul. It took its toll as they gained control. They convoluted their names and the hid in corporations, but it was only a few, usually a single individual. Politicians are people who own corporations. They are CEO’s of companies and their kids are on the boards of oil companies. While they levy war, backed 100% by the American people. When we remain silent, we allow atrocities to happen.
But honestly, there are barbarians on both sides. That is what is so convoluted about it, because the children are innocent but they want no part of it. They are forced into it, raped tortured and brutalized by even their own family.
So where does the term ‘Marines are machines’ fit in you might ask? Well that is a question with over a million different possibilities. So it all has to start from the beginning. Day one, you start and you are transformed every day until the end. From bootcamp to the last deployment you went on in the sand box, fighting was intense from time to time. In Iraq everything was to almost slip my mind, as I stared endlessly into the dessert stars. Countless hours of post and kids dancing for water.
War Isn’t Easy
Afghanistan things really heated up and things changed but the kids innocence seemed to remain the same. I wasn’t there to harm anyone, just to help anyone I could. I have never even pointed a weapon directly at someone, ever. I was a Mortarman and provided indirect fire support. I never really claim to be some Chris Kyle or Marcus Luttrell, just a guy with a story to share.
We were always there to help the children. But they trained us to do a job and to never fail and no this is not a comparison story. There were members from other countries there but the Marines cleared the city. The Battle for Marjah was to end slavery in the village. Who hadn’t seen the outside world in over 30 years. They were cut off from the outside world, living in a city the size of Washington D.C. the city had about 120,000+ civilians living in complete and absolute tyranny.
Embedded with poppy fields for days.
Harvested, sometimes on the daily.
It’s scraped, and then the opium seeps out and is later collected. This is where 80% of the worlds opium more than likely comes from.
They export the opium to places like China, Columbia and Mexico were it is turned into heroin. They make it in the city also, there were pallets of heroin in a lot of the compounds.
Poppy was grown in basically every compound, either that or the Taliban would possibly kill a member of your family. Rape you either way and force your kids to be their slave. The children’s stories were heartbreaking. I can feel the pain right now.
It is sickening.
Being able to see this makes me feel like a machine, for a decade now I have almost thought of nothing else. Missing my children growing up almost completely because my focus is on nothing else. I got lost pretty deep.
This rabbit hole goes to hell, I have seen it with my own eyes. It leaves me living in constant despair.