Mortaritaville: What’s in a Name?
Oct. 5, 2007
Call it my eternal optimism but it seems to me you can’t beat a people who laugh in the face of death. You can kill ‘em sometimes, but not beat them.
The Air Force base here in Balad is nicknamed Mortaritiville because of the non-stop mortar attacks on it. I’m fortunate to be staying in an area that is virtually a compound within a compound so far inside the base that few mortars reach here… and even if it did there are so many concrete barriers around everything I doubt it would cause much damage. But the fact remains that there was a time before the base defenses were so well entrenched that people were killed here by mortar fire.
If we were a superstitious and mystically minded people we would declare such a place taboo or damned ground and stay as far away as possible from it. But we are Americans. This is our base, like it or not and we revel in standing up to the lobbed and inefficient attempts to attack us. We give our little piece of hell an affectionate nickname and make t-shirts saying “I survived Mortaritaville”.
It’s a way of asserting one’s right to be free.
Grabbing ones crotch and flipping up your middle finger is today’s version of “I have not yet begun to fight,” or “Give me liberty or give me death!” Not as poetic, I’ll admit, but in the same spirit. The spelled out version of it is, “You picked the wrong man to mess with when you picked on this American.” And yes I say specifically American because it is truly a reflection of the American Spirit that gives us these examples. Where else on earth can you find the brash, arrogance of someone facing the cannons with nothing left but a pistol and still telling his opponent to F-off; “Remember the Alamo!”? OK, I’ll concede perhaps Australia – whom I now realize shares a great deal with the United States in the way the place drew pioneers and cast-offs of society – may have similar tendencies to rebellious arrogance. It is essentially the desire to be one’s own person and stand one’s ground against oppression.
So, if you ever wonder about how morale is on the front lines, where people come under attack regularly just remember with whom you are dealing. And if you hear the occasional “Yippe-ki-yay mother fucker!” you may excuse the vulgarity of it and appreciate the spirit in which it is intended.
Call it my eternal optimism but it seems to me you can’t beat a people who laugh in the face of death. You can kill ‘em sometimes, but not beat them.
The Air Force base here in Balad is nicknamed Mortaritiville because of the non-stop mortar attacks on it. I’m fortunate to be staying in an area that is virtually a compound within a compound so far inside the base that few mortars reach here… and even if it did there are so many concrete barriers around everything I doubt it would cause much damage. But the fact remains that there was a time before the base defenses were so well entrenched that people were killed here by mortar fire.
If we were a superstitious and mystically minded people we would declare such a place taboo or damned ground and stay as far away as possible from it. But we are Americans. This is our base, like it or not and we revel in standing up to the lobbed and inefficient attempts to attack us. We give our little piece of hell an affectionate nickname and make t-shirts saying “I survived Mortaritaville”.
It’s a way of asserting one’s right to be free.
Grabbing ones crotch and flipping up your middle finger is today’s version of “I have not yet begun to fight,” or “Give me liberty or give me death!” Not as poetic, I’ll admit, but in the same spirit. The spelled out version of it is, “You picked the wrong man to mess with when you picked on this American.” And yes I say specifically American because it is truly a reflection of the American Spirit that gives us these examples. Where else on earth can you find the brash, arrogance of someone facing the cannons with nothing left but a pistol and still telling his opponent to F-off; “Remember the Alamo!”? OK, I’ll concede perhaps Australia – whom I now realize shares a great deal with the United States in the way the place drew pioneers and cast-offs of society – may have similar tendencies to rebellious arrogance. It is essentially the desire to be one’s own person and stand one’s ground against oppression.
So, if you ever wonder about how morale is on the front lines, where people come under attack regularly just remember with whom you are dealing. And if you hear the occasional “Yippe-ki-yay mother fucker!” you may excuse the vulgarity of it and appreciate the spirit in which it is intended.
posted by Joe at Monday, October 08, 2007
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home