Truth
Men, Special Forces is a mistress. Your wives will envy her because she will have your hearts. Your wives will be jealous of her because of the power to pull you away.
This mistress will show you things never before seen and experience things never before felt. She will love you, but only a little, seducing you to want more, give more, die for her.
She will take you away from the ones you love, and you will hate her for it, but leave her you never will, but if you must, you will 
miss her, for she has a part of you that will never be returned intact. And in the end, she will leave you for a younger man.”
– James R. Ward, OSS
How soon we forget
This is what they first saw.
The enduring image of America, a chance at a new life, happiness, an opportunity for prosperity, safety and security.
This is the first thing they laid eyes on as they cruised into Ellis Island after they had packed up everything to their name, their families, and threw caution to the wind on the off-chance they could make something of themselves here in the land where they were told that the streets were paved with gold.
That took a lot of courage.
It wasn’t any easier back then, maybe even more difficult. There were language barriers, racism, crowded conditions and a whole lot of cultural diversity. In other words it was pretty damn frightening to leave everything you have ever known and set out into the drastically new and unfamiliar.
Anyone who has ever set foot in NYC and made it somewhere beyond Ground Zero or the Empire State Building, knows full well that to this day the city is packed with Italians, Anglo, Puerto Ricans, Blacks, Chinese, Koreans, Dominicans, Poles, Russians, Irish and Indians. It’s precisely because of that diversity that NYC is one of the greatest cities in the world, if not the greatest. The one constant that makes this country what it is, is our historical willingness to absorb all of it, and in the process fuel the hunger and determination of those willing to risk everything in order to be part of our little social experiment. And in turn making us stronger.
The greatest most powerful nation the world has ever seen.
That didn’t happen by accident.
So if you are one of those people in Murrieta or anywhere really, snarling in protest, intolerance dripping from your lips, crying out for Americans to take back America!! or send them back where they came from!! or H1N1 or TB terrifies you. Think about where your family actually came from, and what they went through to get here, because chances are you aren’t as native as you might like to think.
And when you finally emerge from that cloud of indifference and are able to think clearly, communicate with your leadership, your congressmen and women, hell write the President if you think you have a solution because I guarantee those nitwits don’t have the first clue what to do next.
Remember that this country was built on the backs of immigrants, countless numbers of which have fought and died to keep this country safe.
Don’t let time, the mall, your new boat or duck dynasty allow you to lose sight of that fact.
Hope everyone had a great 4th.
MGunns sends
Some debts can never be paid.
So tomorrow is Mother’s day.
Here is the 64,000.00 dollar question (am I dating myself by asking this?)
How does one go about the formidable task of truly and honestly showing appreciation for the love and care a Mother dedicates her entire life to providing?
I don’t know if it can be done.
You can make them breakfast, take them to breakfast, bring them flowers, buy some sort of gift, cards, give them a well deserved back massage, or any number of things.
But they all seem enormously pale in comparison with the level of gratitude that is deserved when a young woman brings a person into this contentious world and spends their very existence guiding them to become a person of character, integrity, hardworking and capable of a great deal of love and genuine concern for his or her fellow man.
My mother, a single parent, devoted her life to teaching me just a few important lessons. Integrity, honesty, responsibility, work ethic, love, and friendship.
She taught me never compromise your integrity for anyone and that if you go through life and make one true friend, you are doing pretty well for yourself.
She also taught me that if you commit yourself to anything, pursue it intensively and until it is done and done correctly.
I learned these lessons from my mother not my father and they have carried me well through this life.
My own wife has raised my daughters alone most of the time and battled her way through the insecurity of continuous combat deployments, and done so with the poise and form of a true champion. My daughters have grown into intelligent, and honest young women, caring, with hearts full of love.
I have had the great fortune to always return to a home full of warmth, love and patience as I often struggled to re-integrate myself into a normal life with normal people living in a safe secure environment.
I can recall one particular time when I was returning from Afghanistan in 2012, and when I got to my house on a warm afternoon in May, as I began to off load all of my gear from the truck I looked over and there was my wife, all of my daughters and my two grandsons sitting on the grass, on a blanket, in my front yard waiting for me to get home.
This is an image of love and beauty that is seared into my brain ….I will never forget it as long as I live. These are the gifts she has given me.
How does one repay that?
My daughter, now a Mother in her own right, works diligently to raise my two Grandsons, and to help them grow into strong, healthy, productive and caring members of our society. I can’t overstate my admiration for her and her dedication to their safety and well-being. I can’t help but sort of see her like a pit bull when it comes to this and I would feel deeply sorry for the unlucky individual who chose to trifle with her two young toddlers without her approval.
How does one show something even pathetically close to genuine appreciation for these things?
I would say this: start by showering her with all of the material things she deserves, make sure that come Sunday morning, she has no doubt how much she is loved, and valued.
But equally important, strive relentlessly to be the person your Mother would want you to become. Demonstrate those qualities she worked so hard to inoculate you with, and do it as often as you can.
Make sure she knows without a moments doubt that her efforts and her life choices were made correctly and intuitively and do everything in your power to make her proud.
Just me talking
MGunns
Happy Holidays and what it all means
I wouldn’t call myself an extremely religious person, but I do believe in a God of my understanding, I might even say that in my travels over the years I have come across a number of situations where I have seen his work first hand. I am also a strong believer in fate.
Just by the amount of discord in the world, wars that have started and the overall impact all religion has had on our lives historically …. simply put …. the subject is well deserving of interest and study.
With the miniscule amount of work that I have done, and the tiny amount of knowledge that I have on the matter, one thing seems perfectly clear.
All religion in its pure uncorrupted form … Christianity, Islam, Budhism, Hinduism, Wicca, all sects and sub-sects, schools of thought, Protestants, Catholics, Sunni and Shiite, followers of Confucious, Taoism, Shinto or Mother Nature, all have one intended end state in common.
That is to create in its followers the capacity for a compassionate heart.
To drive us to be of service to our particular God as we understand him and to be of service to our fellow men and women.
If one day you feel like the lights have come on and you aspire to a higher degree of contact with your creator beyond just showing up for the magic show on Sunday, then make a conscious daily effort to take care of that which your creator loves. That means taking care of each other, and the world we live on and in.
Just a thought for the day that sort of popped in my head during this Holiday Season.
Merriest of Chrismas’ to everybody and a upcoming New Year filled with nothing but happiness and the very best of luck.
MGunns
The essence of being kind
They say that 99.9 percent of the population doesn’t give a damn about anyone or anything but themselves, and if you don’t happen to fall into that particular demographic then you are light years ahead of the rest of the world.
I hate to think that this is true.
Today I spent a good portion of my morning waiting in line at the DMV, a frustrating place to say the least. Believe me when I say there are plenty of angry people there. I just may have been one of them as I listened to the loudspeaker call off every number except mine, but I struggled through it and even managed to chat up a couple of folks sitting around me. Going to the DMV in the state of CA is kind of like playing bingo except when your winning number is called you don’t get a nickel, instead you have won the right to pay out an exorbitant amount of money to register your car.
I think as I get older I am more inclined to look for reasons to be nice to people. I certainly haven’t reached any level of perfection in this manner but I find myself seeking more opportunities to just be more polite to strangers and maybe even looking for the chance to commit myself to the occasional act of kindness.
Of course this isn’t to say I was a complete ingrate in my youth, but perhaps not as cognizant of those around me as I should have been, and definitely self indulged.
How can you not look for the chance to help someone out in a place like the DMV? Every possible person in the state is there, all wanting to be somewhere else, trying to get their kid to pass a driving test, renew their license, register their car whatever. Old folks, teenagers without a clue, ladies with kids, pregnant women. The area is ripe with the opportunity to make someone’s life a little easier.
When a lady comes through the door to get her car business done and ambles up to the check in desk carrying a multitude of toddler aged children all equally pissed off and not afraid to let the world hear about it, how can you not give her your seat? My arms ached just watching her carry all of those babies.
Driving on the freeway in southern CA can also be quite the test of your equanimity, particularly when its time to go home for the day. I firmly believe this is why God invented kick ass car stereos, so we can remove ourselves from the chaos outside while enjoying our favorite classic rock or top 40 hits.
There is much angst on the roads. Polite and courteous people suddenly become very rare. This is a mystery to me, because if you are coming up on a major freeway interchange and the guy in front of you is trying to get over … how hard is it to just let him in! He or she is most likely is just trying to get home after a long day and get some dinner in his or her belly. What earthly good does it do to lean on your horn and snarl at the poor guy?
It seems to me that you consume a great deal more energy going out of your way to be difficult to the rest of the world, and at the end of the day what do you really get out of it?
I heard someone once say that you don’t need to teach a baby to share, if you just let them interact it will happen completely on its own.
From this I suppose that we can extrapolate that being an a__hole is conditioned behavior, something we learn from our parents and other people instrumental in our upbringing. Furthermore if this is true then maybe this is something that can be recovered from, like any sort of behavior. Co-dependency, substance abuse, some forms of depression. Maybe there is a support group or a meeting people can go to, where you stand up, say my name is ________ and I am an a__hole. Then you can say it has been six months since I was an a__hole to somebody, and then someone gives you a hug and you get a little coin.
In case you haven’t guessed I am being facetious.
But it does bring up a valid point.
Even if your childhood wasn’t perfect, even if you need to see somebody else demonstrating what an act of kindness looks like, even if it seems much easier to invite meaningless confrontation, and it seems as if everyone around you is full of anger. Fight the urge to become part of it.
Wake up in the morning and say to yourself I am going to do something good today for someone. If the opportunity presents itself take advantage of it. If a person you don’t know that well seems like they want to talk, listen to them. Look at the people around you and go out of your way to make sure they know that they are noticed and that they are important. In short as a human being give your due diligence toward humanity. It may not be common as you think.
Just me talking
MGunns
In Memoriam Fratres Mei
I have heard a lot of folks, mainly veterans, families of veterans, families of fallen, and a lot of other good people making comments and postings on the meaning of Memorial Day. Many times admonishing the great majority of Americans for their failure to comprehend what this holiday is really about.
I understand this, I deeply understand this, because although by the grace of God I haven’t lost anyone in my immediate family, the last ten years have been very difficult on my surrogate family, The Marine Corps Bomb Disposal Community. I share this sense of loss.
It can be frustrating to know in your heart that the vast majority of Americans would have a challenging time finding Afghanistan or Iraq on a map or know where Al Anbar or Helmand are or even what they are. Let alone truly understanding what went on in those places and what that meant to so many people.
To those families I would say, don’t be saddened or beleaguered by the blissful ignorance of others. Seek strength and resolve in it. Your loved ones, selfless and immensely brave, knew and understood and still chose to push forward into the fray, to stand side by side with their brothers and sisters and bestow the greatest gift a young man or woman can give to the American people ……their courage.
This time last year, I went down to EOD School in Ft Walton Beach FL to attend the annual EOD Memorial ceremony where the names of those that were lost this past year are inscribed on a large monolithic stone along with the names of the many heroes who passed away over the years, killed in the performance of their duties.
Needless to say the list of names has grown exponentially over the last decade.
I was there to help place the name of one of my young Marines on that stone.
If I never have to do that again it will still be too soon.
It was a sobering experience, as it is each time I go, not just because the name of a young man who I knew and worked closely with was included on the wall, but because a very large number of young Bomb Technicians who have survived the most serious of injuries also attended to pay their respects.
I will never get comfortable looking into the faces of those families who have lost their sons, husbands and brothers. I will never know whether I was saying the right things or if I was being strong enough for them or if my simple presence caused them pain and unhappiness.
I now realize that no matter how each branch of service may try, with casualty assistance manuals, orders, directives and training that we receive, there will never be any sort of normal response to these things. We may in fact unintentionally cause pain to others by our mere presence, and while meaning to do well we may somehow impose ourselves.
All we can do is be there if we are needed and always speak from the heart. Even if it feels uncomfortable.
If there is never another reason for me to see a bereaved family ever again in my career I will be perfectly content.
Each of our young Marines, Soldiers, Sailors, and Airmen that has passed away was brilliantly special in their own way, each made life better for others around them, and made us better people for having known them. I could spend hours discussing each that I knew, their unique sense of humor, their personal quirks and idiosyncrasies …. their loves and hates … their selflessness … their heroism.
To the families of those that have lost, I say don’t be angered by what may seem like the willful ignorance of others. As we all well know life is devastatingly short. If people take the opportunity presented to them by Memorial Day to gather and share with one another than that is a good thing. Even if they haven’t the first real clue about why they are getting together, and that chance to enjoy each other is provided to them by young people who have given their lives and others who try day in and day out to adjust to an existence without those they cared about most.
I would ask the people of this nation to jump at the chance to bring in the summer this Monday. Bathe in the sunshine and shower each other with much love, camaraderie and good feelings. But as you reach into that cooler to grab that ice-cold beverage, or methodically adjust that perfectly cooked burger with just the right amount of condiment to make it even more perfect. Or even if you just choose to relax and do nothing except watch the Twilight Zone Marathon on TV, take just a few seconds. Not very long, just a little time and direct your thoughts and maybe a moment or two of silence to those young men and women who demonstrated so much intestinal fortitude and left all that they love behind to stand up for something they believe in and to shroud the rest of us in the warm blanket we call life at home.
Have a great Memorial Day
Just me talking
MGunns
Where were they when we needed them?
I am just going to go ahead and say it….
I am a firearms enthusiast.
Regardless of how that is perceived by the general public, I love to shoot and I love guns. I am a career Marine, that in and of itself might indicate that I greatly appreciate firearms and respect the ability to use them responsibly and with proficiency.
My family on my mother’s side are all weapons enthusiasts, all were brought up learning and understanding firearms and all know how to shoot quite well.
I am also a card-carrying member of the National Rifle Association and have been for many years.
I realize that with all that has happened and continues to happen, there is much pressure to do what is right to protect the innocent and hopefully preserve our constitutional rights along the way.
May 28th 1999, in the wake of the Columbine shootings, NRA Vice President Wayne LaPierre, while addressing the House Judiciary Crime Subcommittee, openly voiced his support for universal background checks for ALL firearms purchases.
Anybody who has read my blog has heard my feelings on the subject of gun control, and knows that I believe that our laws need to be modernized. Not in the typical knee jerk reaction being proposed by Diane Feinstein (D-CA) or that moron Michael Bloomberg, but focusing on accountability of both the vendor and the buyer, database management, mental health and laws pertaining to how weapons are stored in the home.
I believe that much of what is being proposed by Senator Feinstein and Mayor Bloomberg is much more about politics than finding an actual workable solution
My Uncle Bill always told me that the best way to protect your 2nd Amendment was to comply with the law to the best of your ability, and I believe this.
I personally have absolutely no issue with universal background checks. I am a law-abiding citizen and if I want to purchase a new weapon I have no problem with my vendor checking my legal history and then waiting the 10 days to pick up my shiny new gun.
Recently the NRA has reversed its original stance from 1999 and now no longer supports universal background checks, claiming that criminals won’t participate (really?) and that it is basically a ploy by the liberals to develop an accurate database of gun owners to be used at a later date to fully confiscate the weapons of the law-abiding.
I have to admit, it sounds a bit paranoid.
Here is a thought: Is it really surprising that career criminals won’t participate? That is why they are called criminals, they don’t normally comply with the law.
The background check is to ensure that a vendor isn’t putting a weapon in the hands of someone who makes a habit of beating his wife, maybe has a history of drug abuse or has a documented history of mental instability.
My question is why the NRA, an organization consisting of law-abiding citizens, military and law enforcement personnel, doesn’t support universal background checks on people purchasing a firearm? Who is pulling their strings? Is there some corporate entity at work here?
A valid question I believe.
The bottom line is this. You have one side of the political spectrum acting like idiots and doing nothing except flailing about in a panic, commiserating with each other and attempting to generate more mush mouthed, overbearing and ineffective policy, and you have the other side, the NRA which is supposed to be there to help us but in my opinion seems to have lost its way and succumbed to corporate power.
We need the NRA now more than ever to demonstrate common sense, resolve and most importantly moral courage.
Last night I received a call from the NRA asking for 200 dollars to support their fight against universal background checks. 200 bucks in my family isn’t a small amount of money (it’s at least a nice chunk toward a new pistol). Sadly I told them no. How can I support them if there is even a possibility that they are driven by corporate money and I don’t have full confidence that they will make the right decision?
I believe in the 2nd amendment with my heart and soul. I will until the day I die. I shoot, I reload, and I teach my children how to safely, responsibly and proficiently handle a weapon. I will teach the same to my children’s children when that time comes.
Its my right as an American to do so.
It’s time we had people in power on both sides of the aisle, less concerned about pandering to those with the deepest pockets and more focused on working to create laws that preserve the Constitution, that make sense and will effectively protect the people of this great nation.
Just me talking
MGunns
The path we choose
I have been extremely fortunate during my career as a United States Marine.
Soon after I enlisted and became a grunt, I volunteered for an extremely physically and mentally demanding indoctrination / selection required for gaining assignment into what is called a Surveillance and Target Acquisition Platoon (STA). Basically a fancy way of saying Marine Scout Snipers.
Successfully getting through the indoc and eventually receiving orders to the Sniper Plt was a considerable challenge. What we wound up with at 3/9 STA was a group of very fit, and well motivated young Marines who didn’t require much other than continued instruction into the new world of sniper tactics, marksmanship, the use of supporting weapons and generally an ample amount of preparation for hopefully getting the chance to attend Marine Scout Sniper School. Marine Scout Sniper School is one of the most academically and physically challenging courses of instruction in the DoD. (When I graduated only eight of an original class of twenty five managed to complete the course).
This preparation we received in spades .. every day.
The definition of a Marine Sniper: A Marine highly trained in field skills and marksmanship who delivers long range precision fire on select targets and targets of opportunity from a concealed position in support of combat operations.
This and other definitions were seared into my brain daily and whoa be it for the individual who can’t recite on demand.
It’s been a great many years since I carved my original niche and it has basically shaped my entire career. You know I truly believe that most of us have one or two defining moments while serving, one or two revelations that chart the path for the rest of the time we spend in the Profession of Arms. This is probably true for life in general.
My first came early and it involved suffering through much discomfort, bad weather, hypothermia, hunger, long hikes and tattered feet to finally emerge from the darkness in tact and feeling as if nothing on this planet could hurt me.
These experiences we carry with us for life.
Most of the Marines that I served alongside in the beginning have gotten out, gotten married, had a family and moved on to other pursuits.
A few of us remain …. and continue to chew the dirt.
SgtMaj Michael Barrett, my first Plt Sgt in STA and now the Senior Enlisted Marine in the entire Marine Corps. That’s right the SgtMaj of the whole Marine Corps.
Plt PT was a somber occasion with that Marine. We never sang cadence when we ran because if you had enough air in your lungs to sing than you hadn’t properly placed yourself in oxygen debt and you needed to be working harder. I was in the Corps for years before I ever realized that once in awhile PT could be fun, that I didn’t have to run myself sick every time or that I didn’t have to seek out and climb the steepest hills Camp Pendleton had to offer (and there are many to chose from).
Years later when I showed up to my next command working with a new group of people and went to Company PT, I wondered aloud why the hell everyone was so happy? What the F*@& is wrong with these people? Didn’t they know we were about to get destroyed running for miles at some ungodly pace? It was then that I realized not everyone in the Corps was part of 3/9 STA and had the unique experience of trying to keep up with Mr. Barrett, Hell, for a long time that was all I knew.
SgtMaj Brian Zickafoose, now the Senior Enlisted for all of 2nd Marine Division, and if it were up to me he would be the one replacing SgtMaj Barrett when he decides it is time to cut away.
Believe me when I say PT with him was no better. Every morning bright and early UDT’s, running shoes, no shirt and off we went. There were no organized sports, no elliptical trainer, no basketball games. You simply ran as hard as you could to the top of the hill, vomited, than ran back down. Then we went to the gym and moved a lot of heavy stuff around.
If we weren’t doing that then we were kitted up and ruck marching up every damn hill on the base. The ruck march .. the great equalizer … you could talk all of the smack you wanted, but put 60 lbs of gear on your back and take off at a 4 MPH pace, you better have much intestinal fortitude and can not just hang with it but actually lead. No BS’ing your way out of that.
All of this is very old school by today’s standards of cross-fit, pilates, zumba, spin etc. (To this day my PT program has changed very little, I still run hard, and pick up heavy things although now I am not as fast and I am also not afraid to take a day off now and then).
Run as hard as you can, than move heavy stuff around … pretty simple.
SgtMaj Vidaurri Higgins. He retired a few years back but when he did it was as the SgtMaj for all of MCAS Yuma. He would thrash us too, but with him every step of the way we were being mentored to be better Marines. He would run our butts off, but along with making us stronger, his intent was to make us better NCO’s and better leaders.
I ran into some good leadership once I transitioned over to Bomb Disposal (EOD), but I have to say that the day to day mindset in EOD wasn’t the same as as what I had come from and some adjustment was needed. I figured this out the day I showed up to a joint service EOD school and was named as the NCO in charge for my EOD class, (typically Marine Sgt’s get picked to do this). I spent more than my share of time getting counseled by the Air Force senior enlisted (an E9). I was continually told that I couldn’t call the Air Force students in my class names like jack ass or fuck stick, I couldn’t make them do eight count bodybuilders when they showed up for training late and hung over, couldn’t yell at them for not having their uniform in pristine condition every morning, and they didn’t have to attend my class PT runs if they didn’t want to. What could I say? This was how I grew up, it was all I knew.
Truth be told everything I had learned from my past leadership served me very well throughout my career. This continues to this day.
Today when I see the SgtMaj of the Marine Corps he comes up with his characteristic grin, gives me a hug, calls me an old knuckle dragger (this is a compliment by our standard) and makes sure to reiterate that there are only a few of us left still in the fight.
Once in awhile I get a message on my cell phone from SgtMaj Zick where he admonishes me for not answering my phone, then loudly reads off his number and in a threatening tone demands that I ensure it is properly recorded and subsequently used in the event I need something.
SgtMaj Higgins, as I said, buttoned it up a few years back. He sent me an invite to his ceremony which to this day I regret not being able to attend, but I was with my crew training up in the Stumps. Wherever he is I know he is doing well working hard and teaching others how to be better people.
Being a great believer in fate and destiny, it seems pretty clear that the path I have travelled and the time I spent with all of these individuals was instrumental in any success I have achieved and hope to achieve in the future. They taught me professionalism, intensity, work ethic, accountability, and equally as important, to look out and care for one another. I was taught as a Marine NCO I should strive toward perfection, to continually challenge myself at my weakest points, to hold my feet to the fire, and in doing so to also understand that the few of us who do this must learn that things don’t always go our way, and when faced with the possibility or even the reality of failure, to do a very small amount of soul searching, then get back up, dust off and assault straight back into the fray until success is ours.
These men are patriots and the lessons I have learned from them I will carry with me all of my life.
Just me talking
MGunns
mgunns 