Outrage

When the ’arf-made recruity goes out to the East ’E acts like a babe an’ ’e drinks like a beast, an’ ’e wonders because ’e is frequent deceased . . . —Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936) From “The Young British Soldier” in Barrack-Room Ballads ForewordHard to believe for those of us who served in Beirut, Lebanon during the turbulent period in that nation’s bloody history from 1982-83 but it’s been three decades since the first round was fired in what has become America’s ongoing war against worldwide terrorism. There are likely historians who would challenge the assertion that the suicide bombing of 24th Marine Amphibious Unit’s Battalion Landing Team headquarters on 23 October 1983 was the single incident that lead the U.S. into protracted military operations in Kuwait, Somalia, Iraq, and Afghanistan, but there’s no doubt among those of us who survived to watch it all unfold. Cultures, economic interests, and religions continue to clash as I write and there’s no end in sight so it seems an appropriate time to re-publish this fictional work about the Marine experience in Beirut as a sort of cautionary tale. There’s nothing much we can do for the men and women who have been lost in this bloody struggle for freedom or for the families who continue to grieve, but remember them in our thoughts and prayers. What we can do—what we should do—is keep reminding ourselves that it’s not over by a damn sight and won’t be until zealots of any ilk finally decide they can co-exist with those who live by different standards and beliefs. There are literally hundreds of military, sociological and political lessons to be learned in this fight against terrorism and the good news—such as it is—is that we are learning them the way that counts in the long-run: through experience and sacrifice. It’s that sacrifice part of the equation that brings me to rewind this story and present it once again to readers who may have a little more interest in the topic at this stage in our national history. I’m a better writer now than I was then, so some judicious edits will make this version a better read. Some of the original venom in my characters’ dialogue is tempered in this iteration. Time and distance has given me a chance to re-ponder the heat with which I wrote in 1988. In instances where personal passion overrode effective flow of the story, I’ve tried to make corrections. If there’s one point I wanted to make with this story when I originally wrote it, banging violently on an electric typewriter in an attempt to purge the outrage that prompted its title, it was the quality and commitment of the Marines who served with me in Beirut. They were wonderful, capable and honorable young men who did whatever was asked of them despite a growing feeling that it might all be for naught as political concerns clashed with common sense and tactical standards. They created a legacy of dedication and selfless performance of duty that is carried today by their successors who continue the fight in the Middle East and elsewhere around the world. That should be recognized and remembered as casualties continue to mount in the long struggle to promote individual freedom of choice and to deter the terrorists who would deny it. We saw it coming back in 1983, and some of us tried in various ways to make it known among our political and military leaders. I distinctly recall sitting on the roof of the 24th MAU Command Post with my friend Gunnery Sergeant Charlie Rose as we watched a salvo of rockets from Druze Muslim positions in the mountains overlooking Beirut International Airport impact among Marine positions one day in 1983. “Skipper,” the Gunny said, “this ain’t gonna turn out well.” As usual, the Gunny was right and in a strange way, his comment started me thinking about writing this book. When the dust of the war on terror finally settles, the last bomb detonates and the final round is fired downrange, we will hopefully live in peace. If that happens—as all rational human beings fervently hope it will—we will be forever be in the debt of men and women like those who made that early ultimate sacrifice in Beirut back in October 1983. Captain Dale Dye USMC (Ret) Los Angeles, 2012