TwinMom7
Proud Mom of a United States Marine
- Joined
- Feb 16, 2000
- Messages
- 1,479
I know that a lot of you are following Bobby and his Marine Corp 7th ESB Combat Engineers, Echo Company through Iraq. Last night, I heard my husband tell a family member that if he could go over there and get him and bring him home, he'd do it in a minute....but we all know that's impossible.
Here's the latest update from the reporter embedded with them:
SOMEWHERE IN SOUTHERN IRAQ -- The enemy Tuesday was the weather. A tremendous windstorm started around 8 a.m. and was still raging late into the evening and was projected to continue through today.
Those who could took cover inside their two-man tents, but the fine dust still managed to get through the tent walls. A child's shovel and pail for playing on the beach would've come in handy as the sand was repeatedly bailed out.
Try to imagine the worst rainstorm possible and then add howling winds that force that rain parallel to the ground. Then imagine it raining a little harder yet -- pounding on windows and the sides of buildings. And imagine the wind blowing even harder, seemingly ready to tear shingles off of roofs. Change that rain into sand and there's an idea of what it was like for South Bend's Marine reservists Tuesday.
Visibility was zero most of the time. If anyone had to leave their tents for any reason, they were required to travel with a buddy. The two-man tents are built in two parts. The outer shell doesn't quite reach all the way to the ground. This way backpacks, sea bags and other gear can be stored under the flaps to give the tents' occupants more room inside. After just a few hours of the sandstorm there were 6-inch drifts of sand covering most of what had been stored under the flaps.
At times the tents flapped around so violently that it seemed they would certainly fall apart and fly away. But they didn't.
At this point, company commander Maj. Leon Bertschy II, 42, of Niles, expects the unit to move again in a couple of days to work on maintaining a major highway into Baghdad. "This convoy should be a little bit better than the last because this one will mainly be on hard-surfaced roads," he said.
The South Bend Marines were allowed much of Monday to rest after Sunday's grueling convoy. After setting up two-man tents -- modern and comfortable to anyone who remembers the old shelter-halves that were used for decades -- in neatly aligned rows, they tried their best to relax as bulldozers and other heavy equipment worked just a few yards away building a protective dirt berm around the camp.
Late in the afternoon they got a scare when the command was given the order to put on gas masks. Marines here entered Iraq wearing their protective suits -- trousers and jackets as a precaution. A few minutes after donning their masks, they were ordered into the highest alert level when they put on protective boots and gloves for the first time.
Most sat or stood quietly, one walked around with an Instamatic camera taking snapshots. One Marine vomited in his gas mask -- the radio call was being made to medivac him. Radio traffic was difficult wearing gas masks. The message had to be shouted into the handset to be heard on the other end -- the shouting was necessary but gave a false impression of panic that wasn't really there, adding to the concern of Marines, who wondered if this time the alert was real.
One Marine said that when he watched flies walk around on the outer lens of his gas mask eye pieces, it reminded him of images of dead animals with flies walking on their open eyes -- a gruesome image he didn't want to think about.
A few minutes later the "all clear" signal came from higher headquarters and Marines relaxed a little bit. The Navy hospital corpsman determined that the medivac wasn't needed -- just a case of nerves -- and Marines went about their business.
Here's the latest update from the reporter embedded with them:
SOMEWHERE IN SOUTHERN IRAQ -- The enemy Tuesday was the weather. A tremendous windstorm started around 8 a.m. and was still raging late into the evening and was projected to continue through today.
Those who could took cover inside their two-man tents, but the fine dust still managed to get through the tent walls. A child's shovel and pail for playing on the beach would've come in handy as the sand was repeatedly bailed out.
Try to imagine the worst rainstorm possible and then add howling winds that force that rain parallel to the ground. Then imagine it raining a little harder yet -- pounding on windows and the sides of buildings. And imagine the wind blowing even harder, seemingly ready to tear shingles off of roofs. Change that rain into sand and there's an idea of what it was like for South Bend's Marine reservists Tuesday.
Visibility was zero most of the time. If anyone had to leave their tents for any reason, they were required to travel with a buddy. The two-man tents are built in two parts. The outer shell doesn't quite reach all the way to the ground. This way backpacks, sea bags and other gear can be stored under the flaps to give the tents' occupants more room inside. After just a few hours of the sandstorm there were 6-inch drifts of sand covering most of what had been stored under the flaps.
At times the tents flapped around so violently that it seemed they would certainly fall apart and fly away. But they didn't.
At this point, company commander Maj. Leon Bertschy II, 42, of Niles, expects the unit to move again in a couple of days to work on maintaining a major highway into Baghdad. "This convoy should be a little bit better than the last because this one will mainly be on hard-surfaced roads," he said.
The South Bend Marines were allowed much of Monday to rest after Sunday's grueling convoy. After setting up two-man tents -- modern and comfortable to anyone who remembers the old shelter-halves that were used for decades -- in neatly aligned rows, they tried their best to relax as bulldozers and other heavy equipment worked just a few yards away building a protective dirt berm around the camp.
Late in the afternoon they got a scare when the command was given the order to put on gas masks. Marines here entered Iraq wearing their protective suits -- trousers and jackets as a precaution. A few minutes after donning their masks, they were ordered into the highest alert level when they put on protective boots and gloves for the first time.
Most sat or stood quietly, one walked around with an Instamatic camera taking snapshots. One Marine vomited in his gas mask -- the radio call was being made to medivac him. Radio traffic was difficult wearing gas masks. The message had to be shouted into the handset to be heard on the other end -- the shouting was necessary but gave a false impression of panic that wasn't really there, adding to the concern of Marines, who wondered if this time the alert was real.
One Marine said that when he watched flies walk around on the outer lens of his gas mask eye pieces, it reminded him of images of dead animals with flies walking on their open eyes -- a gruesome image he didn't want to think about.
A few minutes later the "all clear" signal came from higher headquarters and Marines relaxed a little bit. The Navy hospital corpsman determined that the medivac wasn't needed -- just a case of nerves -- and Marines went about their business.
