RANDOM DISPATCHES OCT 28-NOV 8TH

RANDOM DISPATCHES OCT 28TH- NOV 8TH

Despite the leaps and bounds the Internet and technology has made over time and across the world, there are still moments and places where you simply just can’t get a signal/connection. Rolling around A-stan is like that. Sometimes, when the muse beckons, I can only write it down and file it away for later. I like communicating in real time as much as possible-giving the raw and uncut. Below are some random dispatches that I wish I could have sent out in “real time”. As for photos and videos, they’re coming too…might have to just send stuff back home to be uploaded. I think that my collection of videos pieces both personal and work relate , I might turn into one long stream of conscious piece –like if you were watching an episode of “Robot Chicken” –just one vignette after another…
So without further adieu…

VOTE: Elections…? What Elections…?
October 28th

Greetings from the Zabul Provence –I’m somewhere near Shajoy and Shinkay –not too far from Highway 1-(for you War elders-just like HWY 1 in Vietnam)…I’m at a FOB named after a Marvel X-Men character that is located in the desert and ringed by low mountain ranges. Once again I’m thinking this is Camelback Mountains in AZ or those canyon mountains in LA/vicinity. Some of these mountains stick out like giant ant mounds serving as some backdrop for some sci-fi movies like Conan The Barbarian, Red Sonja, Dune(starring Sting) or better yet-them Star Wars upright Imperial Stormtrooper carriers-who’s name I’ve long since forgotten. Given the lack of female beauty to gaze upon-my mind conjures up images from the classic sci-fi magazine “Heavy Metal” –imagining some beautiful Afghan woman clad in a sexy bikini styled burqa wielding some crazy broadaxe or sword riding across the desert on some battleclad camel or yak to kidnap me from the infidels. TAKE ME ! TAKE ME!
Yeah man…the desert sun will run amok with your mind and imagination out here in Talibland.

OCT 30TH
I got another taste of war upclose but nothing personal when Mr. Taib from a neighboring village where he was either bullying or getting support from-launched 6 mortars into the FOB. Unlike, KAF were you got a sexy British woman’s voice saying ROCKET ATTACK, ROCKET ATTACK- you just got that whistling in sound and them BOOM! So Mr. Talib was walking these mortars into the FOB-2 struck the heliport runaway and the rest sprinkled amongst the motor pool damaging a Stryker and landing in an open area. Thankfully nobody was hurt. I ran out my tent to watch the last 2 mortars land about a ¼ mile away. It was very Hollywood SFX style-black plume of smoke and some flash of flame. Later that evening, Mr. Talib was overheard on the radio telling one of his employees to lie low while our aircraft(s) flew over the area trying to triangulate where the mortars came from. Just like some war style CSI. A “meet and greet” party was dispatched to the probable area with hopes of having a bullet party with Mr. Talib. Apparently, the party started late and Mr. Talib left. The area is sparsely populated but there’s a lot of real estate to cover-over 200 square miles with only several hundred soldiers.

Life on a FOB can vary-some are being built into megabases to serve outlying smaller FOBs and COPs. Smaller FOB’s are usually near some villages and are there to provide a presence to the local population in cultivating goodwill/unity/trust=winning hearts and minds. COPs(Combat Outposts) serve to give Mr. Talib some bullets and mentor ANA (Afghan National Army) and ANP (Afghan National Police) toward self governance/reliance. Unfortunately, corruption is a way of life here and the ANP are the most notorious. They also have a lot of Taliban sympathizers amongst the rank and file and have over time turned on ISAF/NATO forces. If I have to be around ANP-guaranteed, I have one in the chamber and be looking screwface at ‘em. Dirty Bastards. The ANA has a beef with them too but the ANA are far from being choirboys. The relationship is one of parent and child here-the Afghans ask for things and we give it to them-knowing full well in a lot of cases-the money is going somewhere else and not to the people who need it the most. A lot of the villagers have to “wear the mask” as the great poet Langston Hughes once described about the relationship between blacks and whites. For the Afghan villagers it’s US and the Taliban. In some places, they have to walk a tightrope-the Taliban visits to collect/bully or often use their village as a base of operations against coalition forces, if someone snitches or sees that they are helping the coalition forces-the consequences are dire. At the end of the day, like the hood – “folks gotta live there long after the police/army/soldiers leave…
Yeah now about them elections…
I was looking forward to covering them at the same time a bit nervous about the possibility of some serious violence jumping off at the polling stations. Then there was an issue of how close we could get to the polling sites since we (US) would be lying in the shadows and providing area security while the ANA would be doing the polling station security…Abdullah₂ smelled the rat and pulled out. I know those U.N. workers must have been pissed as hell after flying in all those ballot boxes/ forms/ etc. So election fever now cooled. Karazi is a product of his environment and won’t change overnight. So here we go further into the muck with this schmuck…

HALLOWEEN OCT. 31ST
The food out here is pretty good. Steak, crablegs, 3 flavors of Baskin-Robbins ice cream on Sunday-3 squares a day-the food is better out in the field than at KAF. Trade off between being behind the wire and outside it. Being outside, you are definitely more freer to be your own boss as you embed with various units to do stories on their exploits and activities. Sometimes you fall into that grey area of being combat camera. Afterall, we all did train together at Fort Meade, MD. Splitting the same hair how many times??? Anyway, besides the familiar creature comforts of KAF-hot showers, the boardwalk-a combo of Afghan shops selling trinkets and our Pizza Hut/Subway/Tim Horton’s and the various NATO country shops-familiarity breeds contempt. Not to mention the crowded rooms in these one level modular housing units and the rank aroma of the “shit pond”-a human waste pond that is an environmental hazard down the road from us. KAF’s infrastructure is overwhelmed by all the troops/private contractors/etc. here. And with Obama mulling over troop increases-a lot of them will be there at KAF. Lines are everywhere-the Green Beans coffee spot and Tim Hornton’s are caffeine crackhouses-folks need that war fuel. I wonder how much of that shit pond waste is result of coffee? That would be a good episode for the show “Mythbusters”.

So, it’s Halloween-the dining hall is all done up in Halloween party favors-goofy jack-o laterns, skeletons, black cats and witches. The nearby mountains and the forthcoming full moon are a perfect setting for some type of zombie or ghost story to unfold out here. I peer out in the desertscape imagining zombies or lackeys from those Brendan Fraser “Mummy” movies rising up to give the FOB some combat action. Yeah…a zombie movie that takes place at a FOB…hmmm…It dawns on me-I gotta get with some Hollywood/indie producer and pitch the idea! Not only that but the idea of Afghanistan as the next Hollywood backlot-Afghan Spaghetti Westerns or remakes(find the next Dari/Pashtun Clint Eastwood-even better if he was some ex-Taliban fighter) the next Afghan Marilyn Monroe/Dorothy Dandridge/Penelope Cruz…YO- maybe I could get the ouija board out and conjure up the spirits of Hollywood Moguls like Louis B. Mayer, Samuel Goldwyn or Cleveland’s own; Lew Wasserman and start a movie studio here…or holla at Oscar Micheaux for some self distribution advice bet he would of dug the cinemin swivel. Why not an Afghan Film Academy? Mentor and train Afghans in the cinematic arts to cultivate their identity through film/video and support those Afghans who are already in the cinematic struggle-See/look for the upside the war! My mind is racing while looking out at the desert. This country is beautiful/deadly/sad and yet full of potential. Now if there was a way to remove all the mines or at least set them all off to make it safer…hmmm…we can crash spaceships into the moon in search of water…wow…priorities…makes you wanna holler…shout out to Marvin.

William Friedkin’s “The Exorcist” is playing at the recreation tent. Me and my buddy go to watch. I was never one for that film-along with classics such as the “Damian” series and the other two “Exorcist” sequels-sh** was too scary-too real-especially coming from a religious upbringing –hellfire and brimstone and the devil walking amongst us always got me spooked. I can attest to otherworldy experiences especially as a kid. That aside, and it being almost 30 something years later, being in a combat zone on Halloween-it was time to see this flick from beginning to end-and to confront those childhood memories of my sister watching it on Showtime and sneaking downstairs and seeing bits of it that seared into my mental visual archives. Watching the pacing of it, reminded me how much we are a oversaturated information/media culture-we are so used to faster cuts edits-more information crammed into a short amount of time. I was getting bored with it on some level but on another level- Regan and her family were reminiscent of folks I knew growing up in the idyll suburb of Shaker Heights, Ohio. The streets of Cleveland were only a few blocks away but Shaker was a masala of socio-economic class/ levels-mostly black and white. Regan was a composite of a lot of those middle/upper class girls I knew and even liked at one point. So when Regan got the spirit and started to wild out-it made think of some of those girls who had growing pains or dysfunctional household issues with their parents. I can’t attest to no cross in the crotch theatrics or somebody’s Mom having an up close and personal revisit to the yoni she created. Still, given today’s glut of SFX and oversaturated depictions of violence, Friedkin’s film still resonates in its rawness. I also wondered how did those actors feel participating in such a project and did they unknownly open themselves up to dark energies or spirits? Whoever the actor-British(?) that was the demon voice in Regan, his dialogue and lines were funny and eerie. The sound design and editing for that time was edgy-the subliminal frames and use of agitating sounds (beehive and hyenas? Dogs fighting?) was creepy. In the end, good triumphed over evil-if only briefly while Regan went along her merry way-none the wiser about what went on inside her. Folks who perform exorcisms in real life got some real extra spiritual cojones. That’s the “ish” I need to tap into when contact with Mr. Talib presents itself.

After the movie, the artillery guys-I imagined in their own way-to say “Happy Halloween” -fired some outgoing illumination rounds. These can light up an area almost plain as day. They fired several toward the area where the mortars came previously. Orange in color, they hung in the sky it seemed and slowly floated down like a disco ball. Some Sergeant told me later that they shoot those in order to deny Mr. Talib any “tactical ground”. I laughed to myself and thought; “The hills have eyes! Talib knows where we are and he ain’t stupid-ignorant but not stupid”. Right then, another round of visuals struck my mental. I imagined leaving the wire and going up into the hills where Talib was- armed with some jack- o-laterns, a camoflagued boombox cued to the late great MJ’s “Thriller” and bullet candy. What a sight that would be! Talib’s eyes go big/wide as Mantan Moreland’s and me with my chesire/impish grin saying “TRICK OR TREAT”? I am not gonna front, sometimes I think this war needs a little fun and some theatrics. Psyops in another life I’d be.

I slept kinda uneasy after seeing the Exorcist-mental was rewriting old scary source code-eradicating the old and putting new perspective on the chapter. The Geto Boys; “Mind Playing Tricks On Me” was on the mental. I promised myself to download the song next time I could but I was able to look up the lyrics to fill in where my mind forgot. A classic- especially on Halloween-watching the Exorcist- in the spooky desert/mountains of Afghanistan.

War Humor...collect them all!

KAF is NATO base. The largest in the world. We got 42 countries repping for the Afghans. As mentioned before, we are the largest crew here. Along the boardwalk-which is reminiscent of some old pier sans the water-there's a few countries that have their own base exchange store. The French, The Canadians, The German stores all carry a mixture of military clothing, toiletries, candy, electronics(waaay overpriced) and some cool stuff.







At the Deutsch store, they have a collection of satirical, probably not too P.C. in some circles-velcro patches that spoof brand name logos with a war slant. One of the most popular ones is the "MAJOR LEAGUE INFIDEL" patch that is like the major league baseball logo except it shows a soldier in a shooting position. There's a few notable others that reflect the humor that can be found in f*** up situations such as war. I am going to collect quite a few of them and wear them on some "OPERATION ENDURING FREEDOM satin jacket with my Fort Green, Brooklyn VFW hat or on my TRAVIS BICKLE designer label jacket upon my return to the streets of Brooklyn...

Blackhawk UP

Got assigned to accompany a reporter to cover a medevac unit outside the wire a few nights ago. I had my first ride on a Blackhawk helicopter immortalized in "Blackhawk Down". The crew loaded up our gear as we awaited on the flight line to get on board. It was time to lock and load "Martha Washington" (my M-16's name based off the Frank Miller character) and hop aboard. The door gunners were the illest sight-they wore "Darth Vader" like facemasks connected to their helmets. They were looking very sinister as the Blackhawk soon took off and they locked and loaded(the sight of them racking their 249 Bravo made me think of Biggie's lyric from "Warning".."putting ligaments into bad predicaments..." The Blackhawk rose and floated up like some magic carpet but the gusts of wind remind you otherwise coming from the doorgunners windows. Plus it's loud inside. No "flight of the valkeries" just the sound of the wind and the door gunners swiveling around like vultures scanning for any of the Talibs bold enough to wanna take potshots on our way to the FOB. Thank God these fools don't have Stinger missles or anything similiar yet. Nervous and a bit amped I was as we left KAF. The 1ST LT sitting next to me nudged my shoulder and asked if I was gonna get sick. I nodded nope...I was riding pure adrenaline...We passed over the desert landscape of southern A-stan, past camels, goatherders, small villages, mini patches of lush green land and cellphone towers(Talib needs to make calls too)....We arrived at the FOB without incident and I was introduced to some of the coolest cats I've met thus far in the Army. They made me feel at at home and were mad chill-none of that hierarchy rank shit...They had four consecutive nights of action and this night could go either way. It was 24 hours on being on pins and needles to some extent awaiting a call for a dustoff-(medevac) then scrambling to the birds(1 gunship for protection and then the medevac). I felt more at home with them in that short time that with my own unit. If I could, I'd change and do medevac. Most of their pickups are Afghani's(civilian/soldiers) and our dudes. Thankfully, it was a good night. No calls for a dustoff. I am looking to go back up there to do a mini doc on them. Btw, on a random note, that outpost that got overran last week by the Talibs is a "combat outpost" "COP". Medevacs can be very hairy-you never know what you might be going into but I am finding out about myself -that in some ways, like that dude in the Hurt Locker-it's not the war-it's the adrenaline drug, the life near the edge that makes you feel alive and in the now. You and my peeps-are kinda abstract at the moment and I blessed that technology via the internet/cellphone/skype make the abstraction less abstract. I took some flip video from my first Blackhawk ride that I'll post soon.

WELCOME TO KANDAHAR(KAF), A-STAN

Welcome to Afghanistan. 365 days to go. GAME ON.

* NO PIXS YET-Working on that-soon come ;-)

The C-130 did it’s corkscrew approach to Kandahar Airfield (KAF) -it felt like being on a rollercoaster ride. Our plane was a mixture of Army and Air Force soldiers-as the plane began it’s swan dive toward the airfield-an Air Force soldier threw up on the floor. I just had to piss but couldn't leave the bench.-This is a safety measure to avoid possibly getting hit by missile or a rocket. The plane then accelerates and does a hard landing. We landed without incident as the C-130’s big behind opened up. The searing southern Afghan midday heat rushed in to great us. I flashed back to Oliver Stones's Platoon-where Charlie Sheen is getting off the plane in Vietnam and is passing soldiers heading back to the big PX-they stare at each other-the wizened watching the cherries go off to their destiny. Well-there was none of that-there just the blinding, blistering hot concrete and the hustle and bustle of a military airport. I had my flip camera going recording the moment of getting off the plane. Everyone was shits and giggles as we all looked around. Profusely sweating in our full battle rattle(combat gear). The low slung mountains in the distance were a dead ringer for Arizona ‘s Valley of the Sun (Tempe/Phoenix metro area and vicinity) - for which I call the Devil’s Oven(sorry Ma-just calling it as I sees it ;-) A local national-who reminded me of the fey dude in Beverly Hills Cop(expresso with a twist) greeted us and directed us to a nearby waiting, hot cramped bus. Did I mentioned how dusty it was? They call the dust out here moondust-fine like powdered sugar and it gets in everything! Anyway, we’re on the bus and the dude-I’ll call him Pannio-is trying to talk to us over the loudspeaker with the radio-blaring the BBC. A few times we had to tell him turn it down and then talk-he had a thick accent to boot. After driving around the airfield in the stifling bus-we finally found out where we had to go get our gear that was loaded on the C-130. We were then ferried to the main terminal that is called “the TLS” Taliban’s Last Stand. I quickly called it the “Alamo” -anyway-back in the day when the Taliban was running things-this terminal was theirs until the Allied forces drove them out. There’s still bullet riddled walls around the cheap plywood construction of office space. Walking through-I wondered how many Taliban caught a dirt nap for this piece of real estate. I wonder if they are enjoying their heavenly maidens. Let me digress for a minute about Mr. Talib. I call him that because I don’t believe in calling a worthy adversary a hajee/towelhead or a sandn***** or anything that I have heard used in this corporation to demonize the enemy. Taliban in it’s proper context -is term applied toward anyone studying at the madrassas(Islamic religious schools)-Talib-is Brit slang. I call him Mr. Talib because his simplicity in fighting coalition forces through the use of IED's Improvised Explosives Devices has accounted for 80 PERCENT of US coalition casualities. Mr. Talib is not stupid at some level on their organizational food chain. He is committed -like the Viet Cong/NVA in his beliefs and like Malcolm said,"By Any Means Necessary". He hides behind his interpretation of Islam-just like some of our extremist Christians in our country. Same game, different face. Mr. Talib has learned the fine art of bombmaking. No matter how big or how tough we think our MRAPS(armored trucks) or sophisticated mine clearing equipment is, Mr, Talib finds a way to make a bigger IED to blow that shit up. He's now taking a page from Timothy McVeigh's playbook and using fertilizer and various chemicals and plastic containers to make the BOOM BAP. Recently I had a counter IED class and was chilled by the ingenuity of how he uses cigarette packs, discarded batteries, bric a brac to make bombs and it's components. Not to mention, Afghanistan is the second heavily mined country in the world. The Soviets laid mines by the millions while they were here and left all sorts of munitions behind after their 10 year stay ditto the Mujahideen/warlords-in their turf battles throughout the country against each other and their Soviet landlords -so hey-use what you got(and oh yeah, we got a ton of them here too-so no one is truly without
sin). What's crazy is that the Italians are/were the largest supplier of mines -they don't care who they sell them to. Design asthetics is truly in their DNA and the mines that they produced to sell to anybody who would buy are ill works of death by design. Mines that have "portico/doric stylings" to keep them buried and deliver more bang/bounce to the ounce. The Soviets were smart to map out their mine fields and we have a legacy of that but the Mujahideens simply planted more mines and didn't put X marks the spot-so if the Mr. Talib doesn't get you-then some old shit will. One just has to go out to the countryside and see indigenious/UN/NATO markers for where them Boom Baps lie. Or most sadly it's the people: the children/the elders with missing limbs or farm animals with missing limbs. We had a crash course in spotting telltale signs of roadside bombs but at the end of the day-there's only so much you can do. If it's your time to go, then it's your time. Don't matter if your in a war zone or living in quiet/sleepy town USA somewhere. Death has a quota to meet everyday.


A sobering reminder was getting my third set of dog tags to tie in the laces of my boots if the good Lord decides to snatch me up and there's nothing much left of me.

Being here for little over a week, in some words is not describable. The 5 senses are kinda on overload. At the moment, I'm living in some type of shelter tent with other soldiers -part of that Obama surge -awaiting assignment for more permament quarters. There's wifi internet access, pizza hut, subway, Afghani rug and trinket shops along a sandbox like boardwalk, laundry service-decent dining facilities, gym, a starbucks like joint called Green Beans a Tim Hortons and various multi national base exchange stores(We are a NATO base). All these creature comforts amidst the searing heat/dust/grime and the constant reminder of war as fighter jets/predator drones/apache/chinook helicopters take off around the clock bringing the pain, the relief or delivering the grief of dead ones back to the world. My day starts at 430am. 8.5 to 10.5 hours ahead of friends and fam in different time zones. The mornings are freezing and the days blaze. Outside the wire(base perimeter) lies a beautiful country of textures/contrasts in spite of war. Mr. Talib wants to be Tony Soprano-he wants to keep the women in check and go back to them old timey days of old-he wants to reap the profits from that Poppy and finance his ambitions. but somewhere in the middle is the people -poor like their sistern and bredren in other parts of the world and caught between bombs and bullets-collateral damage. NATO is what we fall under but we are shouldering the load-via USAID(United States Agency for International Development) and giving our military industrial complex livelihood-a fucked up dichotomy. All around KAF and A-stan itself-are all these capital improvement projects in effect-American/Asian/European money-hoping that one day-A-stan will get stabilized but what also a fucked up part of this equation is Pakistan. Pakistan is that loose cannon-who looks the other way while taking our money. We are not leaving A-stan anytime soon and our European allies are feeling the heat of their people growing discontent with their sons and daughters dying. At some point how much will enough be enough? I think that Iraq and A-stan will be a soldier's tour of duty like Korea or Kosovo all under the guise of fighting global terrorism and capital market expansion...Well it's Friday night and I am in my "gabespace" created by draping mosquito netting over my top bunk and creating my tent on the bottom bunk. No incoming mortar attack announcements -causing you to grab your weapon and hit the bunkers. We had one last thursday night-a buddy of mine shared a bunker with a motley crews of fellow Americans and Europeans. All had the causal air of "here we go again". I didn't hear anything hit but Mr. Talib likes to remind KAF he's still out there-close and possibly closer than we like to think. More about that later...there's a lot to reflect on and I will bring it to you all over time. But I just want to say-is don't be afraid for me-I am in the eye of the hurricane. It's not a walk in the park by any means and I certainly don't know what lies ahead but I must focus on finding the good moments everyday and living each day one day at a time. Let me get this out of the way: I carry all of you in my thoughts and if anything should happen to me-know that I made the attempt to live a colorful, engaging , inspiring life and hope you will find a way to do the same. Signing up and doing a bid for the Army during wartime is not for everybody ;-) nor is it something I relish but I have surrendered to the Now, the present and I am at peace.

THE ROAD TO KANDAHAR

SEPTEMBER 12-16TH

Greetings from the Republic of Kyzgyrstan, one of the many "stans" in this region(One can blame the British for carving up this central Asian region).

Anyhow...


We have been in Bishek since Friday awaiting a flight to take us to Kandahar, A-stan.
I feel that mercury in retrograde has had a hand in this longer stay. Days have been spent sleeping/thinking/doing physical training/eating/making phone calls/sending emails and hanging out at the base internet cafe.

The locals are a mixture of Asians who can be traced back to Ghengis Khan and various ethnic Russians. I heard that the diversity is even greater in Afghanistan. I am reminded by that iconic photo from National Geographic from the late 70's of that young Afghan girl with striking eyes.
A few days ago, I met a private contractor-whom I'll call "Luke Cage" from Bed-Stuy- confirming that there's always somebody from Brooklyn wherever you go. He trains Special Forces and has been in A-stan for about 2 years. There's a great doc about how many brothers are in this private contractor arena over here.

"Luke Cage" had some cool Kemetic/hieroglyphic tattoos and was rocking a gold tooth. Forearms like Popeye. He'd make a great character actor/security advisor and consultant for film/TV. I made sure to get his info. I asked him about the Taliban. He said that they are a fraud to the Islamic religion and are a bunch of animals. He briefly described some of the atrocities that the Taliban did to some of his Afghan friends. But he did say that they are crazy/driven enough to die for what they believe in. Basically- don't sleep on them fools.

Heard. Understood. Acknowledged.


We are leaving sometime today and then it's game on. The BBC did a 6 part series on life at Kandahar NATO base that might be found online. I saw snippets of it and the place is it's own city/suburb-although a crowded one. Hopefully/prayerfully our living situation won't be too ghetto.

We can't take photos around Bishek for operational security issues. I will post some photos once I get situated in Kandahar.

SEPTEMBER 11TH

I am midway to A-stan. Stopped over in Leizpeg(sp) Germany. Stopped over someplace in Canada during the middle of the night. The tiny airport could of been a set for that old TV show "WINGS ". Just an office and a coffeemaker and a few bathrooms. The flight was a commerical contracted 757 with the crew straight outta JFK. had an entire row to myself. Food was often and I ate and slept. Here in Leizpeg, watching the 9-11 memorials and reflecting on the ripple effect that day has had on where I am now. Cause and Effect...

Leaving last night from the deployment terminal was a long walk into history. 100+ soldiers and myself formed a long single line walking out to the tarmac toward the big bird. We carried our rucks and weapons and memories of moment ago goodbyes to friends and families. We were met along the way to the Big Bird by a volunteer from the USO(united services organization) who gave each of us a hug and a small US flag as we boarded the plane. I am in still in a daze about the magnitude of this undertaking and service.

The 9-11 memorials play on the tv here at the airport. soldiers are the only occupants. I got a few minutes left on the public computer to finish off this dispatch. more to come....peace.

WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF WAR BLOGS

Sift thru...look around...

September 9, 2009

Links to Blogs and Military Resources

In recent months the Pentagon has created accounts on Facebook, Twitter and YouTube and started blogs to help advance its message. But even as officials seek to use the Internet to shape public opinion and humanize its troops, ambivalence runs deep among many commanding officers.

Blogs by Deployed Soldiers
In Iraq Now (at 56)
Active Duty Patriot
Doc H's International Adventure
Embedded in Afghanistan
The Gun Line

Veterans, stateside soldiers, commentators, families and compilations
Michael Yon Online Magazine
Mudville Gazette
A Soldier's Perspective
Some Soldier's Mom
VA Watchdog.com
Milblogging.com

Department of Defense sites
United States Forces-Afghanistan YouTube site
DoD live
Combined Arms Center blog, U.S. Army
10th Mountain Division's Sound Off blog
Gen. Ray Odierno's Facebook page