Ten-Shun! Right-Face! Forward-Explode!

by Paul Giles
May 16, 2006

It's safe to say we're all concerned about terrorism. We watch the news in horror as bombs explode and people are changed from their normal semi-solid state into gaseous mists floating on the breeze. We're a bit on edge, but we're also a bit giddy, glad it's not our blood giving some eyewitness the look of a bank robber who's just had some macabre dye pack go off in his face.

So what's my solution to this global problem? How will I bring peace to the world and justice to its peoples? Is there a way to give the dispossessed the hope they need to turn away from violence and murder?

How the hell should I know? My answer to everything is cookies and milk, though not whole milk, since at my age I have to watch my cholesterol. Concerned, yes. Proactive? Not today, thanks. Just watching the scenes unfold on the news.

But all the network coverage of terrorism has me wondering. Every time there's a news story about terrorists they show a file film of some hooded figures in a desert training camp running an obstacle course. They're hand-over-handing a horizontal ladder above a ditch. They're snake-bellying under barbed wire on scorching sand. They're high-stepping automobile tires like they're trying out for running back on the Pittsburg Steelers. And I think to myself, why the hell do you need to train that hard just to plant a roadside bomb or blow yourself up?

Let's face it. I'm a lazy American. My feeling is that if all I have to do is strap some C4 to my chest and push the button marked, "PUREE," I'd rather not strain myself getting there. Rappel down a rope from 80 feet up, dodge enemy fire and run evasive maneuvers? Not in this life, thanks. I'd prefer a slow stroll down an oak-lined street, maybe do some window shopping along the way. Better yet, I'll take the bus so I can sleep while I'm getting to my target.

So why do terrorists train like they're going into battle when they know if they ever did they'd get their asses kicked like a Dennis Kucinich volunteer in a biker bar? Is it just a PR stunt to scare voters in those countries that allow voting, which is why we in the U.S. don't have much of a terrorist problem in the first place? Or is it all really just to keep the volunteers from asking the kinds of questions any rational person would? I imagine this scene on Day One of training.

Sgt. Ahmed, Suicide Terrorist Training Instructor First Class, looks over his newest recruits with dismay. Most are skinny kids with only hints of beards. Half are wearing designer shirts made in the Godless West. None of them look like they could carry even half the weight in explosives needed to blow themselves to Paradise, let alone to take out enough other people to make the evening news. Well, they'll have to do, he thinks. They'll have to do.

Ahmed: Alright! Listen up you sons of maggots and grandsons of those maggots' fathers! I am now your only family, but you will call me Sgt. Ahmed! You have volunteered to kill the infidels by detonating explosives you will carry into a crowd of people in a major Middle Eastern city. You will...yes, you with your hand up. What do you want?

Recruit Benji ben Doggie, nervous about questioning his superior, steps forward.

Benji: Sir, if we are supposed to kill the infidels, why are we detonating these bombs so that they kill other Muslims?

Ahmed: What kind of stupid question is that, pig!

Benji: Well, sir, it just doesn't make sense to kill our own people if we want to attack the far enemy, the West. I would gladly sacrifice myself to kill 100 infidels, but why do I sacrifice myself to kill 100 believers? It doesn't add up.

Ahmed: It doesn't add up? What are you, some kind of math whiz? Get back in line and do as you are told! Now, before you are allowed to martyr yourselves, you must train day and night! First, we will cross that ditch over there by hanging from those ladder rungs and...what? You again, ben Doggie? What is it now?

Benji: Why do we need to do this?

Ahmed: Why? So that you can get to your target, you camel turd!

Benji: But I have lived in cities all my life, Sergeant. People do not hang from ladder rungs to get to work or shop for food. In truth, I have never seen a ladder positioned like that in any city, except maybe on a children's playground, though it would be much easier to walk around the little sandbox than it is to hang from the ladder and...

Ahmed: Are you mocking me, falafel brain? Your training has been carefully planned to turn you all into superb fighting men!

Benji: Ah, so we will be fighting?

Ahmed: No!

Benji: So then...

Ahmed: So, nothing! Now get back in line! Fool! Next, you will crawl under that barbed wire while I fire live rounds over your head and...oh, Allah give me the patience of virgin number 70 in Paradise! What now, ben Doggie?

Benji: I am so sorry, Sgt. Ahmed, but this I also do not understand. There is no barbed wire in the streets of Riyadh, or Islamabad, or even New York. And if there were, crawling under it would not stop them from shooting me. I would be right there in the street. They would not even have to shoot me. I have been to New York. I would get run over by a taxi, which is ironic since the driver would most likely be a cousin of ours. So you see...

Ahmed: I see nothing except a fool who thinks too much! You may not have to crawl under barbed wire. You might have to crawl under a fence or through a tunnel! They have tunnels in New York, don't they, you brother of a jackal?

Benji: Yes, Sgt. They have tunnels in which the subways run, but the only thing to crawl under would be the turnstiles, and I would be arrested if I tried.

Ahmed: Yes, I am sure the thought of a $50 fine would be enough to stop you from blowing yourself up! Cur! Now, finally, you must increase your agility by stepping in and out of that row of automobile tires on the ground. You do not have any objection to that, do you ben Doggie?

Benji: No, I have no objection to any of our training, Sergeant. But I have another question. Do the militaries or police forces of major cities believe that erecting rows of automobile tires on the ground will deter us from our holy mission? Do they think we are so stupid that we will run to our targets by stepping into each and every one of those tires, slowing us down so we can be shot down like dogs? And another thing...

Ahmed: No, ben Doggie. No more. You are right. These training exercises are useless. It is only the detonation that counts. And I need you to help me with the demonstration. Here. Put on this explosives-laden vest. That's right. Tie it tightly to your chest. Are you comfortable? Not too tight, is it? Good! Good! Now, everyone, pay attention. Ben Doggie here has correctly donned his suicide vest. Uh, step back a little more so the rest of the recruits can see you. Excellent. Now all you have to do is learn how to detonate the vest when you've reached your target. Uh, ben Doggie, push that little button at the end of that cord.

A massive explosion turns Benji ben Doggie into a smoking froth over a small crater in the sand. The other recruits are shocked, but Sgt. Ahmed smiles with satisfaction.

Ahmed: So, is there anyone else who thinks the training is stupid? Good. Let's get over to the rappelling wall. Who's first?