In From the Cold

I've just arrived back at Al Qa'im after 11 days in the field with Fox Company, 2nd Battalion of the 1st Marine Regiment (F/2/1). The operation I covered with them was called "Steel Curtain". This operation was aimed at eliminating insurgents and their infrastructures in several key towns, starting at the Syrian border and moving west along the Euphrates River Valley. The fighting was intense and bloody. I'm beat. Tomorrow is Sunday and it will definitely be a day of rest for me. As soon as I can recharge myself, my digital camera and get back to my studio at Camp Fallujah I will post imagery, both photos and art. By that time hopefully I'll have processed the experience enough to give you a cogent account of what occured.

Back Out West

Yesterday I spent 6 hours in a CH-53E (Super Stallion) helicopter making my way to Al Qaim, on the Syrian border. Today I'll be heading out into the field. It may be a little while before I get to post anything. I want to thank all you folks for checking out my site. I've been up for about 48 hours so I'm going to sign off and get a little shut-eye. Oh yes, experiencing a new sensation.....it's getting ccccold here.

The Far Keening of the Pipes

Sergeant Jim Roper USMCR

Lieutenant Colonel Patrick Carroll USMC

In a previous post I used the word consanguinity. Its origin comes from the Latin word for blood and can be used to mean "in the blood", or "of the same blood". It comes to mind how the word blood is used in a variety of passionate phrases; getting your blood up, swearing a bloody oath, he saw blood, or to one's marrow (the source of blood). One thing that will definitely get my blood fired up is the sound of bagpipes. The drone of pipes will drag me out of the house and down the street in search of its source. Here at Camp Fallujah there is a piper named Lieutenant Colonel Patrick Carroll. I first heard him night before last practicing outside in the dark. Many pipers practice late at night out-of-doors. LtCol Carroll echoes what many pipers believe, practicing indoors will either make you deaf, or drive you mad.

Another interesting and inspirational Marine I've met is Sergeant Jim Roper. Sgt. Roper is a Marine Reservist hailing from Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. In his civilian life he's a Major in the Oklahoma State Highway Patrol. Over here he's with civil affairs, working to restore Iraq's economy and legal system. What's so special about Sgt. Roper? Sgt. Roper was originally in the Marines as a MP from 1972 to 1976. At the age of 53, almost 30 years after he hung up his dress blues to become a highway patrolman, he re-enlisted into the Reserves! 9/11 got his blood up. He heard the far keening of the pipes, left the plow in mid-furrow, kissed Mama goodbye, shouldered his rifle and returned to serve in the War on Terrorism. This gentleman is neither summer soldier nor sunshine patriot. When you turn on the news tonight and watch the faces of politicians and celebrities remember that men like Sgt. Jim Roper are the stuff that America was and continues to be forged out of, and those parading across your TV screen could use a marrow transplant from a guy like this. Semper Fi!

In the Shades

One of the first things I noticed about the look of Marines this trip is the prevalence of sunglasses. Not that GIs haven't worn shades in the past, but during this phase of Operation Iraqi Freedom ballistic sunglasses are mandatory. The threat of explosions from any number of sources necessitates them. There are several challenges to rendering Marines when they're all suited up. The new digital cammies have a subtle pattern meant to confuse the eye. The Kevlar helmet is a complicated shape, and when paired with a camouflage covering looks different from every angle. And finally, the high-tech sunglasses have a distinctive shape all their own, yet give a certain anonymous look to each individual when they're worn. On top of all this each Marine has his or her own idiosyncratic way of wearing their "782 gear" (782 gear is Marinespeak for combat regalia). Being a dyed-in-the-wool realist, I'm not satisfied until each of these surfaces and shapes are captured with a graphic honesty.

Another visual aspect of Marines out in the field is the condition of their uniforms. These guys go for weeks working, sweating and sleeping in the same set of clothes. The result? Impregnated with dirt, and the salt residue from dried sweat, they take on a texture somewhere between sackcloth and cardboard, something analogous to grade school paper mache. My challenge? To try and capture the stiffness (and also suggest the discomfort) of a uniform that is meant to soften the outlines of the Marine wearing it.

Here's a series of drawings with these elements in mind. I've also included a drawing of an Iraqi interpreter, aka "terp". All these terps have a price on their head. They bravely work and share hardship with the Marines, and are allowed to wear our distinctive cammies. This sketch shows a terp with Lima Company 3rd Battalion 1st Marine Regiment in the casual act of rolling up his sleeves. He's a big guy, and like most Iraqi males sports a couple days of beard growth.

The weather here this past week is markedly cooler. Clouds have appeared with the occassional rain shower where weeks ago there was a rubber stamp forecast of blue skies and high temps with an intermittent light dusty wind. The one thing that I REALLY miss this time of year is the changing leaves.

Flora and Fauna

House Sparrow


White Cheeked Bulbul








Birdingbabylon.blogspot.com Check out this great blogsite called Birding in Babylon. One of the things that's been lost in the coverage of the War is Iraq's flora and fauna, in particular birds. The fertile margins along the Euphrates River teem with birds and waterfowl from the bullrush beds along its banks, to the village gardens shaded by pear, lime and pomegranate trees. I've watched large white and black Mesopotamian Crows leap-froging from tree to tree following us on patrols through the palm groves of Haditha. Farther out in the desert the Crested Lark, a small brown and cream bird with a distinctive tuft on his head, is often seen resting in the shade under parked HUMVEEs. House Sparrows, and orange bellied White Cheeked Bulbuls frequent the date palms that border a small pond a few feet from my studio. Yesterday, after a brief morning rainshower, I watched a pair of black and white Pied Kingfishers hovering a few feet above the surface of the very same pond. They looked like they were attired in a harlequin's motley. Magpipes can be found foraging for chow in dumpsters throughout Camp Fallujah. One of the most interesting sites for me was observing Grebes swimming underwater in the catch basin at the base of Haditha Dam hunting for small fish.

A Family Affair

Joey and myself at Camp Fallujah, Iraq

There is a consanguinity about being a Marine. My father was a Marine officer during WWII. My father's stories of his wartime experiences got into my veins. When my mother would cook something not to my brothers and my liking he wouldn't chide us that children were starving in China, no, he'd remind us how the 1st Marine Division, cut off from resupply, desperately survived on Japanese rations of fishheads and rice.( Somehow liver and lima beans didn't seem so bad, even if we did have to gag them down with gulps of milk.) He fought on Guadalcanal, and on New Britain, where he recieved the wounds that would take him out of the war. His unit back then was 2nd Battalion of the 7th Marine Regiment. My oldest nephew, 1st Lieutenant Richard J. Fay USMCR, is a Naval Academy graduate and my father's namesake. Joey, as we call him, was the only grandchild my father ever held prior to his death from cancer on October 4, 1981. During that last painful day my Mom asked him if he knew what day it was, and he did, October 4th, the day he joined the Marines in 1938. My nephew is here at Fallujah on his first tour in Iraq. Joey's unit is the very same his grandfather served in as a young 1st louie over 60 years ago. We've been able to get together a couple times. Our hometown newspaper, the Allentown Morning Call, printed a feature article about our first meeting over here. This December 1st I will be promoted to Warrant Officer, and I hope to have my nephew perform the promotion ceremony. The Marine Corps is very much a family affair for us Fays.

Example of Field Work

Here's a pencil drawing of a Marine with an Iraqi soldier. The Marine is wearing the new digital cammies while the Iraqi sports the old style "chocolate chip" desert uniform. The Marines in Haditha conducting Operation River Gate were teamed up with a contingent of Iraqi soldiers straight out of their boot camp. These soldiers are almost entirely Shia, and range in age from mid-twenties to mid-thirties. One of the most remarkable things I witnessed while patrolling with them happened at the tail-end of the long referendum voting day. The Sunni owner of the home who's roof we used as an observation post directed his youngest son to spread out a prayer rug for the Shia soldiers who were with us.

Guardian Angel

I wish this image was sharper. The title of this pencil drawing is "Guardian Angel". Guardian Angel is a term coined by Major General James Mattis when he was the commanding general of the 1st Marine Division during Operation Iraqi Freedom I, otherwise known as the initial invasion of Iraq. General Mattis knew that his Marines were going to have to adapt to a new kind of asymmetrical warfare as the period of reconstruction got underway. The mindset of the "guardian angel" required that the Marines be "no better friend, no worse enemy". It asked of them then, as it continues to ask, to consciously walk the thin line between assisting with the most generous of attitude, while being aggressively vigilant. This image shows a SAW (squad automatic weapon) gunner standing watch in 130 degree plus heat at high noon while fellow Marines work to gather up and destroy hundreds of unexploded mortar rounds in a residential area teeming with curious kids. For those of you who've never experienced these kind of temperatures, I invite you next time you take cookies out of the oven to stay there with your face at the open ovendoor for an hour. And do it while the kids are acting up.

And More Art.........

Samples of My Combat Art