While reading the news, I came across a Lt Neil Prakash and blogged about him over @ my Desi-themed group blog, Sepia Mutiny.   Via that entry & the magic of the Blogosphere, Lt Prakash caught up to me & we exchanged a few rounds of email.   I cajoled him to start a blog and document his experiences in Fallujah - a perspective the web certainly needs much more of.  

Well, luckily for us, his blog is now up -- Armor Geddon -- and the results are quite good.   The man isn't just an example of the quality individuals that make up our Armed Forces but he's also a fine and entertaining writer.   Bravo.

Recent posts include receiving his orders to go to Fallujah -

 "Pack your shit, check under your pillow, and get your ass to Fallujah."

As well as some details on the dress rehearsal leading up to the assault -

SGT P told me all about the rehearsal yesterday that took the task force up to the attack position. They had reconned the site where they would stage for the attack and where we would breech into the city. "Oh my lord, Sir. You should have seen it. There were more vehicles than I have ever seen in my life. There were tanks, bradleys, humvees and PCs as far as you could see, stretched out across the desert. It was sick."

"Yeah well, I heard that yesterday was a reduced force rehearsal. Only the key leaders were out there with you. That was only 25% of the division task force for the assault."

"Sweet Jesus. This city has no idea what's about to hit it."

After reading it for a few weeks, I have every confidence that Lt Prakash's blog is as good or better than the other fantastic MilBlogs out there.   I particularly thought this little passage was worth some attention --

I realized I had lost any credibility with my men. It was over. Until someone challenged me to chug a quart of Tobasco Sauce in less than a minute. I knew my reputation depended on it. I grabbed the bottle, ripped off the squirt cap with my knife and drank. It went down no problem. Then after about a minute, it felt like someone stabbed me in the stomach with a knife. I doubled over and couldnt stand up. My throat wouldnt stop burning. Suddenly, I puked up the whole quart and most of it went out my nose. That burned pretty bad. Every time I wretched, globs of Tobasco whipped back in long strings right into my eye. It was horrible. That burned even worse. It's 6 hours later and I'm back at Fob Scunion. I am still burping up Tobasco and it makes me quiver. Just writing this blog has made me gag twice in memory.

I won the hearts of my men back...

I can't help but think that for some folks, this stuff is the height of sophmoric male barbarism and is root of everything wrong with society.  Slay this beast - so they think - and we can all live in Kantian paradise.   For others, it's the cement in a bond of brotherhood that's tough for outsiders to understand.   I hate dismissing stuff with a handwave, but in this case, you almost just have to be a guy to understand (that's not to say this stuff isn't sophomoric ).  I'm one of those who considers a heaving stomach full of Tobasco sauce a small price to pay. ;-)

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UPDATE -- Sarah's got the latest action shot of 1LT Prakash in Fallujah - cool stuff.

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