-----Original Message-----
From: XXXXX MGySgt Rene J
Sent: Friday, November 20, 2009 10:07
To: M_HQMC_Comm_Chiefs; XXXXX MGySgt Horace
Cc: XXXX Capt Joshua S; XXXX LtCol Mark F
Subject: FW: "We Are Coming Home"
Below is a recent message from the Commanding Officer of 2nd Battalion, 3rd
Marine Regiment to the families of his Marines. If this doesn't make you
beam with pride (or bring tears to your eyes), there's probably something
wrong with you. Semper Fi!
2nd Battalion, 3rd Marines
Message from the CO to Our Families
28 October 2009
Sometime tonight our first main body flight should be departing Manas Air
Base in Kyrgyzstan, enroute to Hawaii. They will be followed, hopefully in
short order, by the remainder of our main body flights as we return home. We
are making every effort to communicate with our personnel in Kaneohe to
provide as up to the minute information as possible regarding flight
manifests and times. Occasionally higher priority missions result in
reassignments or flight changes, please be assured that we will make every
effort to get that information to Kaneohe for distribution as quickly as
possible.
This is a bit of an odd update I'm afraid. It isn't my intention to talk
about Afghanistan or our mission here, but instead to address just what
incredible men your Marines and Sailors are. I doubt that I will ever be
able to express the extent of the respect and admiration I have for your
loved ones in this Battalion. I can use words like dedication, courage,
honor but in the end words don't quite cut it. So let me tell you what I
have seen:
I saw a LCpl bring in his buddy's gear following a horrible IED strike and
practically beg to go back out so he could get back in the fight.
I saw a Marine leaning out over the edge of a roof in the middle of a
firefight, leaving himself in the open purposefully in order to tempt a
enemy RPG shooter to break cover in order to end him.
I've seen numerous Marines standing a lonely post in the pre-dawn hours,
keeping watch carefully and correctly even though no one would know if they
cut a corner, but doing it right because they were responsible for their
buddies' lives.
I watched a Sailor calmly grab his gear and run out in the open to a
casualty who needed him, he never asked "How bad is he hurt?" or "How much
enemy fire is there?", the only thing he asked was "Where's the casualty?"
then he went. Because Corpsmen always come when they are needed, always.
I watched 19 and 20 year old men, who a mere few years before were
undoubtedly typical self centered teenagers, earnestly try to make a young
child who has only known poverty and war smile. I even saw a very imposing
Marine in this Battalion who, frankly, scares the heck out of me, see a
little girl off to the side of a group of kids with nothing in her hands so
he very seriously went around saying "Somebody give me a teddy-bear, who has
a F-ing teddy bear?" until he found one and presented it to her. The only
person there with a bigger smile than the little girl was the Marine. He
then went right back to chewing on his squad to keep their dispersion and
move faster.
I watched FST medical personnel try every desperate measure to keep a good
Marine with us, to the point of opening his chest and massaging his heart
for what seemed like an interminable time. At the same time I saw a line of
Marines and Sailors and Soldiers forming outside to donate blood, we had
enough donors to transfuse all of Hannibal's elephants but they all wanted
to do something and at that time the only thing they could do was give some
of their blood.
I watched an NCO very patiently sum up all the complex nuances of
counter-insurgency warfare to a young Marine while both were being pummeled
with stones and physically knocking intruders off our wall from a mob
threatening to breach the walls of our police station; "They want us to
shoot them, so then they can make us all look like bad guys." So we didn't
shoot, even though we had more than sufficient justification, and in the end
what could have been a horrible incident broadcast around the world actually
became a positive as the locals started talking about the restraint of
"their Marines" and became angry with the rioters for their "un-Islamic"
behavior.
I watched a Marine, with excruciating slowness and superhuman patience, lead
an Afghan Policeman through a patrol brief. And I saw the pride in the ANP
officer's face when he lead his patrol out the entry control point, in his
town and in front of his people, with the Marines trailing along behind in
case he needed some help. I also saw an Afghan Policeman's face when I told
him that the Marines thought highly of him and had told me that "Spider"
(his nickname) was a good guy to have alongside you in a fight. He sputtered
a little bit then said something short and stared at me very intensely, the
linguist told me "He says he is just so very proud that the US Marines think
that". Once Spider was sure that I understood that he meant it, he strutted
away like he had just won the world's highest honor. And perhaps he had.
I know that for the rest of my life I will cherish this period in which I
had the honor to spend my days among such incredible men. And I know that it
has been your sacrifices that have made it possible. I thank you for
allowing me this time with your loved ones.
We are coming home.
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