The Havok Journal

01/09/2024

You know me
Only as your father
a role that I have played
In a production of “I hope they don’t turn out like me”

A single point of perception

Never knowing the carefree boy I once was
Peels of laughter, reflecting off the moon,
casting shadows in a lawns empty spaces
Chasing lightning bugs and dragon flies

Struggles that shaped me, difficulties forging me into the man I would become
Edges left rough and jagged for the trials ahead

Retired, broken, struggling to work off all my moral debt
You will come to see me as a person, imperfect as all the rest. A man, learning to be a father, after a life of being at war.

I hope that you don’t judge me too harshly
Just know I love you, and always wanted the best for you

Just make me a promise

Don’t turn out like me…

Written by Dan Orth

31/08/2024

Drink after drink, song after song. I begin to drift away. I forget the present and drift into the past. I am in a world of plywood, not drywall. I am in a world of bullets, not butterflies. I am in a world of destruction, not peace.

Drink after drink, song after Song. I begin to drift away. I drift away into a world all but forgotten. I drift away like the veterans before me. I drift away into a place so few understand. I drift away into the music of our time, filled with the plight of the veteran. The “Hero of War,” the “Letters from Home,” the “When the World Stopped,” the “Hallelujah Veteran Version,” the united patriotism. Song after song, someone must have shared, drink after drink.

Like the generations of veterans before me, I love and despise something I can never re-live. I chase and run away from something in the past. I want that which I cannot have and yet, I do not want it I weep for something I hate and love. No matter how much I understand, it is still a mystery. The world looks upon war in nuanced black and white. They establish rules to be broken. They ask us to succeed at all costs and ostracize our reality.

As time passes the stories leak—the eyes of the inexperienced look with awe, amazement, and horror. The realities of war are expressed in the spoken words of the experienced. Drink after drink, the stories begin to leak. Drink after drink, and the world begins to understand. They begin to understand that which we hope they might never know.

Drink after drink, I remember the forgotten. I weep for what was lost. I weep for what I desire and despise. Drink after drink, I seek to suppress the anger the drink enhances. Maybe, drink after drink, I know what it brings. Drink after drink, I become immobilized as the past merges with the present. Drink after drink, I drift away into tomorrow.

Drink after drink, song after song. I begin to drift away. I forget the present and drift into the past. I am in a world of plywood, not Drink after drink, I become immobilized as the past merges with the present. Drink after drink, I drift away into tomorrow.

31/08/2024

It was a platform offering an opportunity to bring home a different shard of a shadowed culture. After all, I’d consider it quite the foolish act not bringing these elements home to secure posterity for my own as mine did for me with rites like cooking hogs and frying seafood. Food has a way to transcend general gripes, differences, and barriers of entry – it opens us up, often speaking the words we can not but the ones that we do understand. Maybe it’s the calming of the primal parts in our heads, something affirming that calories will soon be processed while slowing one of our many need drives. Whatever it is, I tend to free myself up, be better as a person, and listen a whole lot more when food is involved.

by Clint Keels Travelers Rest in South Carolina extends a big handshake for those hunting social engagement, entertainment, and much more. The Food has a way to transcend general gripes, differences, and barriers of entry - it opens us up, often speaking the words we can not but the ones that we do...

31/08/2024

Join this channel to get access to perks:https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCkoujZQZatbqy4KGcgjpVxQ/joinBy now, you have had the opportunity to watch and obser...

30/08/2024

Things That Don’t Fix Bad Morale

A meal with the boss.
Pizza parties and catered meals.
Bouncy Castles (yes one USAF base did this with good intentions but was widely ridiculed.)
Morale shirt/patch Friday
Family Days
Visits from VIPs.
Challenge Coins and awards handed out like candy.
Getting a Squadron group picture made where everyone forms up to spell out the unit numbers.
Elephant Walks.
Senior leadership serving the holiday meal.
Motivational speeches by leadership or guest speakers.
Climate surveys.
Corporate team building exercises.
A day off without having to take official Leave.
Any sort of required physical exercise – like a Fun Run.
Required group volunteer work or parties.

Maintaining good morale isn't rocket science to real leaders. But as there are so few in leadership who seem to understand it, you'd think it required a Maintaining good morale isn't rocket science to real leaders. But as there are so few in leadership who seem to understand it, you'd think it requi...

30/08/2024

War is ugly, it is not pleasant, and people die. Remember them as heroes, never forget them, and don’t taint that night with untrue assumptions.

The untainted truth about what happened to Extortion 17. On the anniversary of the Extortion 17 tragedy, we remember the heroic men who were felled rushing into battle, as they had done hundreds of times before. One would hope that we could remember them for the heroes they are, but instead the news...

29/08/2024

Somewhere in a forgotten war, over a decade ago, he died. His eight-day struggle ended. Somewhere, in this window of time, my brain takes hold. I can recite their every date. Yet I can never remember that fateful date.

I can never remember the day it started, only the day it ended. Yet, my body seems to know. This window, the window between my first firefight and first loss. It seems to be a subconscious window. Somehow I always forget and seemingly remember.

Today, it all ended. Somewhere, at the beginning of this date, I need to feel nothing and everything. I numbed my body and soul, only to seek pain. Strike after strike. I found myself punching the metal safe, knowing my human flesh could do no damage against its metal exterior.

I punched and I punched, almost without thought. Strike after strike. I felt nothing. My knuckles were purple and bruised. I felt only the dullest pain. If not for the brain, I would have continued. I would have continued until my fingers were left stiffened and aching. I would have struck and struck until the blood ran red. I would have never stopped.

What is the pain of the living compared to the sacrifice of the dead?

Somewhere in a forgotten war, over a decade ago, he died. His eight-day struggle ended. Somewhere, in this window of time, my brain takes hold. I can I would have struck and struck until the blood ran red. I would have never stopped.

29/08/2024

Facts. ;)

29/08/2024

Please don’t get me wrong, I know I sound like I’m knocking officers, but that’s not my intention. Some of my best friends are officers. I just think that we have way too many chiefs and not enough warriors. And the pay disparity between the two is antiquated and inequitable. Listen, When I was an E-1 I was married and lived off base because at that time you had to be an E-4 to get base housing. I lived 30 minutes away and put rent was $300 a month. My take home pay was $600 a month. My wife and I splurged on a $14 pizza once a month. I doubt that the brand-new 2 LTs getting UPT [Undergradulate Pilot Training] on the other side of the base had to limit themselves to one pizza a month.

Earlier today I was watching videos from an Army officer who posts under the name “MandatoryFunDay” and he’s hilarious. He also has great insights and Please don’t get me wrong, I know I sound like I’m knocking officers, but that’s not my intention. Some of my best friends are officers. ...

28/08/2024

There were many nights back then that I would return home from the bars highly intoxicated and re-lived many of the traumatic moments. I am not proud of this, but there were nights when I did come home drunk and stared down the barrel of my 1911. I just waited for the flash. It took a significant life event for me to come to my senses and start the path to healing.

My son was born in 2007. I fully recognized that no one was going to do it for me. It was solely up to me to take the first steps. I knew I needed help and started to reach out for it. It has taken a long time for me to figure out which methods of therapy work for me. Everyone is different so there is no cookie-cutter answer for everyone. There are plenty of people who are trained to help you out, reaching out and saying you are not ok, is the first step. I know I am not the only one who has fought these demons before.

The point is, you don’t have to fight these demons alone. It is ok that you have them. It’s knowing that you can combat them and win. Reach out and tell someone about it. I urge anyone that is going through their own version of hell to please reach out. I often speak to my formations about su***de and leave my final words of:

“My phone is always on, there is no judgment here, if you need help, reach out.”

by Command Sergeant Major Geoffrey Phillips What is adrenaline? What is fear? What is anxiety? What is Post-Traumatic Stress?It is late July of 2003, in The whole purpose of this is that there is a need for combat vets to regain the comradery and sense of belonging we once had so long ago.

27/08/2024

The purpose of a demonstration is to get someone’s attention. It doesn’t matter if the eye that sees the protest is from the mainstream media or just a curious YouTuber. A protest is a failure if it goes unnoticed. I was told once that any publicity is good publicity. I don’t believe that. A group can get noticed for all the wrong reasons. A shouting match or, worse yet, an act of violence will go viral almost instantly. When that happens, the message is lost. BLM probably had a valid message, but all I can remember from those protests are videos of burning cars.

A counterdemonstration is guaranteed to be a confrontation with passionate participants on both sides of the street. Emotions run high, and staying unperturbed is difficult. That’s where training, experience, and solidarity come into play. And you don’t want any stray actors showing up whose fondest dream is to bust a couple windows and set fire to a Starbucks. Yet, those are exactly the individuals who are drawn to these events, like moths to a flame. The fact is that a counterprotest is a risky proposition, even when all the people involved have their heads on straight. It doesn’t take much for everything to go south.

So, Miryam is right. A counterdemonstration might make people feel good about themselves (“We showed them!”), but it really doesn’t make the situation any better. It can potentially make it all a lot worse.

I drove the old man home after we were done at the synagogue. He doesn't live very far from the shul, so the trip didn't take very long. Still, we had It can potentially make it all a lot worse.

27/08/2024

Mark Zuckerberg said he planned to fight any pressure from the White House to censor content on Facebook and that he would not donate "Zuckerbucks."

27/08/2024

I wrote this short story because of what I have seen happening in the military, where I served for twenty-eight years. Too many officers in the military blindly followed jab mandates, diversity and equity requirements, and the transvestite agenda. They stood by and took no responsibility for their actions during our surrender in Afghanistan. They have sold their souls and replaced them with stars. This is my personal story of a leadership situation and the decision that ended my career.

by Lt Col (ret), US Army, Darin Gaub My Band of Brothers Moment “The Army’s National Training Center, next to Death Valley, has a few things going for it. What are you called to sacrifice in this war for liberty in America? Do not wait; get out there and do it.

27/08/2024

So here we are at the end of “America’s Forever War.” Was it worth it? Each person who set foot into a valley or onto a mountain in Afghanistan must answer that themselves and make their own peace with that question. We may have left the valleys and the mountains, but the valleys and the mountains will never leave us. I can guarantee that the events of the past twenty years and particularly those of the last few weeks will be analyzed and dissected for years to come. The pivotal question remains: will we heed the lessons of the past, or will we once again disregard the echoes of history as America navigates its role in the “Graveyard of Empires”? Make no mistake: we may be finished with Afghanistan, but rest assured, Afghanistan is not finished with us.

by Charles Ray This article, write up, testament, or whatever you want to decipher it as is my perspective on the ongoing crisis in Afghanistan as well as

26/08/2024

I died for you today

In a land called Afghanistan

A place far far away

I’m your brother, I’m your sister, I’m a father, and a son

I came out here to see it through, to do what must be done

I witnessed thousands screaming

I saw women fall off planes

Just for a chance to not live a life in chains

I held a mothers only baby

I was the bright spot in someone life, just maybe

I was the boot on my first rotation

I was the squad leader who held the line with no hesitation

I watched as bullets whizzed by my head

I was the machine gunner that never thought he’d sling any lead

I was the SSGT who years ago survived those deadly pumps

Only to come back and stand 10 feet from those same terrorist chumps

I was the DM who stood overwatch all day

I was the Lcpl standing post that had to turn people away

I was the Platoon Sergeant that really wanted to stay

I was on the FET team working all hours of the day

I was the one who got blown up

I’m the reason why you’re drinking from a red solo cup

I died for you today

In a land called Afghanistan

A place far far away

- B3P

Written by

Three years ago today, 11 Marines, one soldier and one sailor lost their lives at HKIA. Their deaths ripped through our homes and hearts. Their sacrifice and courage will never be forgotten.

26/08/2024

Grant Wood’s American Gothic painting depicts a scene he extracted from his hometown of Cedar Rapids, Iowa during the Great Depression (Martinique). It displayed resilience in the face of adversity when the once-booming United States spiraled into economic collapse.

Credit: on Instagram. All rights reserved by author. Grant Wood’s American Gothic painting depicts a scene he extracted from his hometown Grant Wood’s American Gothic painting depicts a scene he extracted from his hometown of Cedar Rapids, Iowa during the Great Depression (Martin...

25/08/2024

I lay there and realized I cannot even remember how many people I have watched die. I cannot even remember every funeral I have attended. I lay there and realized how young I am. I thought about how full my life has been, but how such a full life brings such great losses.

Every drop of hot water was soothing as they rained down upon my body. I lay on the shower floor, staring as drop after drop slid down the side onto the I lay there and realized I cannot even remember how many people I have watched die.

25/08/2024

Sit with Warriors and the conversation will indeed be different. It will be filled with laughter, born out of the darkest corners of existence. It will be guided by honor, rooted in a deep sense of morality and integrity. And it will remind you of the incredible strength of the human spirit, inspiring you to embrace your own inner warrior and face life’s challenges head-on.

I’ve recently come across this picture. Sit with Warriors and the conversation will be different. I thought about it for some time. I really liked it Sit with Warriors and the conversation will indeed be different. It will be filled with laughter, born out of the darkest corners of existence.

24/08/2024

We love your southern border with Mexico. We cross it almost every day. Our terrorist cells form on your soil while we lay in wait. Our white-and-black Taliban flags have been flying in your country since we first arrived. Our Taliban soldiers dance in your streets while your First Amendment protects our Freedom of Expression. We aren’t hard to find. We don’t always hide. Your laws protect our Jihad.

You can find us on YouTube and in States like Texas and California. Where else are we? Ohio, Washington, or New York perhaps? Wouldn’t you like to know? Someday, you will. We know where the Afghans in the U.S. live. We track them through social media and plot to take vengeance on your soil.

We defeated you in the longest war in American history. We’re coming for you. We are already here. We deliver food to your homes. We drive your trucks. We sort your packages. This is our Holy war. This is our Jihad. Look over your shoulder America. As we have said to many before you, YOU HAVE THE WATCH. WE HAVE THE TIME.

by Scott Chapman, Matthew Griffin, and Russ Pritchard The last time I saw you was the first day we celebrated our 20-year Jihad victory. The year was 1400 Today, we recognize our new national holiday. According to your Infidel calendar, we recognize the 15th day of August 2021, as “The Day of Vict...

24/08/2024

I was dubious and nervous when I walked into that class and saw all those stripes. I introduced myself and told them about my background and started teaching. After a few hours, one of the TSgts raised his hand and asked to speak. He said something to this effect, “Airman Chamberlin, it appears that you are very nervous about our rank and we just wanted to let you know something. We know nothing about aircraft maintenance and you certainly know way more than we do. We are relying on your knowledge to help us through this transition and keep our careers so please ignore all the stripes. We are here to learn.” I gotta say that I really appreciate what those guys did right at that moment, and I still appreciate it today over 40 years later.

I had a short stint working on aircraft out of an old station wagon but in the main, my jobs ended up centering around working in arcades. But they seemed So yet again having my A&P helped me. Some of the other Pipeline instructors had a more difficult time gaining and keeping credibility with the s...

24/08/2024

What are your thoughts on what happened today?

23/08/2024

Whatever is learned by coercion is never taken at face value anyway. It is compared and contrasted to other information. By examination, we gain an appreciation for the accuracy of the information. It is possible that people will say anything in order to make the pain stop. It is even probable. But that does not mean that valuable information cannot be obtained. You can object all you wish and claim that our nation has higher standards. I encourage you to look around and see the price that has been paid for those standards. Moral character is fine when you have the luxury of it. But do not ever establish a moral point from which you refuse to move or else your enemies can trap you there and destroy you.

Barbarism can only be faced by barbarism. It takes blood on your hands to win a war. If you don’t know that, you do not understand war.

Personally, I am a barbarian and proud of it.

Morals are a construct. We are not born with them, we learn them based on societal agreed-upon rules. We evaluate our standards against what is common. Barbarism can only be face by barbarism. It takes blood on your hands to win a war. If you don’t know that, you do not understand war.

23/08/2024

I live because they cannot. I strive to achieve because I must. I speak because their lessons deserve to live forever. I share because their memories should never fade. I am the culmination of those loved and lost. I am forever driven by guilt for surviving when they sacrificed. I am passionate and expressive because of those destroyed by the unforgettable past. A past they believed only death could bring them peace. I am grateful for the wisdom shared by those taken by Father Time. I am angry for those taken by the lies of others. The lies that led their bodies to betray them as they withered away in pain.

I am who I am because they cannot. I am who I am because I must. I am who I am because I am guilty. I am who I am because maybe I was not when I needed to be. I am who I am because I am grateful. I am who I am because I am angry.

I am who I am because who they were.

I live because they cannot. I strive to achieve because I must. I speak because their lessons deserve to live forever. I share because their memories I am who I am because who they were.

23/08/2024

If there are no “right” things do I pick the least wrong, or just go with two out of three? With about seven percent of all sexual misconduct accusations being false, is it a safe bet to take matters into your own hands and deal with the accused on your own?

If you’re in the military long enough you’re going to encounter su***de. I showed up at Coast Guard basic training on October 18th, 2010, and signed on If there are no “right” things do I pick the least wrong, or just go with two out of three? With about seven percent of all sexual misconduc...

22/08/2024

Guilt and shame are not signs of weakness, but normal responses of a heart that cares.

by Britta Reque-Dragicevic This first appeared in Britta's blog, "Life After War" and is republished with the author's permission. You’re not supposed to You’re not supposed to talk about it. It’s the underside of war that stays hidden deep inside.

21/08/2024

S-T-R-O-K-E. Using my one good hand, I slowly thumbed the correct letters for what I thought I was experiencing.

Numbness on one side of my body. Check.

Slurred speech. Check and check.

I was having a stroke at thirty years old.

(Editor's Note: The following is the third chapter from Jared's book It'll Buff Out.) Chapter 3: Sirens In-Law’s House Thornton, Colorado September 17,

21/08/2024

I wonder if I will meet my death in old age, a small gathering of stalwarts at my funeral. Will it be a tragic accident along the way, leaving questions of why and the randomness of the world? Will it highlight the reality of how fragile life truly is?

Will I die in uniform, performing the duties I love so dearly? Will the death be unavoidable or the result of my mistakes? Will the world follow the trend of whitewashing the mistakes that created the ultimate sacrifice? Will it help perpetuate those mistakes? Will my life be glorified?

Will they whisper the phrase I so despise, “Do not speak ill of the dead,” or will they abide by my words, “Death does not absolve us of our life?”

I wonder if I will meet my death in old age, a small gathering of stalwarts at my funeral. Will it be a tragic accident along the way, leaving questions Death does not absolve us of our life.

21/08/2024

Through all the time gone, through all the talk of deployments, training, ‘in support of,’ who did what, there is, in my mind, a single metric that decides if it was a deployment or not.

Were you issued live rounds you carried every day?

It’s a yes or no question, and it’s the same answer to the question “did you deploy.”

No live ammo? You’re separated from family and home. Which is a big deal, do not get me wrong. I’m not here to shame anyone who didn’t deploy. Not everyone is in control of their own schedule after they raise their right hand, and many I know did all kinds of amazing, wild, tough training all over the world that I didn’t do, and may have not been able to.

But carrying live ammo every day, that is the line. That’s the great divide, between deploying or not. Route Clearance, door kickers, medics, reporters, mechanic, the job doesn’t matter, the combat load does.

by Bobby Ganton What is a deployment? It's a hot topic during the presidential election cycle for some reason (Vance, cough, Walz, cough). Is a It's a yes or no question, and it's the same answer to the question "did you deploy."

20/08/2024

The last time I talked to Jack was the Friday before Father’s Day this year.

I was going to the market to buy some steak. Jack told me he was picking up a shift that night. I don’t know how we got on the topic but it was about how Dzhokhar Tsarnaev was such a little prick, aside from being the surviving terrorist of the Boston Marathon bombing attack.
He’s right. He was a little punk. Fu**er.

We said our goodbyes and said we’d talk on Father’s Day. I told him to be careful. He said he would.

In the darkness of Saturday morning, his wife found him on the ground in the driveway next to his big pickup truck.

We don’t know the exact circumstances. Did Jack suffer a heart attack or a stroke? Did he fall or stumble and hit his head?

He was flown into Boston and was intubated and sedated in the ICU. His condition was grave. The damage to his brain was extensive.

On Tuesday his family made, likely, their hardest decision and stopped life support.

To me it’s still not real. I’ve texted him, by mistake, I think, “Jack’s gonna love this.” “Let me just text Jack.”

I miss him. I think he is still around. I talk to him. I miss him. I loved him so much.

Jack had so many friends. I never had so many friends. I have Jack Davis as my friend.

I didn’t cry until, as a pallbearer, The Sailors in attendance played taps. Once they stopped so did my tears.

I talk about him a lot. I’m in contact with his wife and son and one of his brothers.

Last night we talked about a celebration of life this fall. To get those who love him together, not at a wake or funeral.

Here I am today thinking, “f**k, I’ve got to tell Jack about this!”

Thanks for listening. I haven’t been able to tell anyone else.

by Mark E. Arena This is my buddy John J. (Jack) Davis. 1961-2024. Jack passed away on 6/18/24 after suffering a traumatic brain injury. He was laid to John J. (Jack) Davis

20/08/2024

“The service will never love you as much as you love it.” – Unknown.

“The service will never love you as much as you love it.” – Unknown. I can’t find the source of that quote, and I’ve heard it used in the Coast Guard, I can’t give up the ship knowing there is still potential for something positive; there may be enough good metal left in the hull and fra...