Saturday, November 13, 2021
We, 2-7, had just gotten to into Mosul on Marez in October 2006. We were stacked up in the CHUs waiting for the Strykers to RIP out south. We tried to maintain platoon company integrity but it was sort of a shit-show. We hadn’t been there 24 hours yet and had not gotten the lay of the place. It was chilly and I was fiending for a cup of coffee out loud in our little mixed up platoons and companies AO down in the corner by tower 5 and Ghost Gate. SGT Miller was like,”Fear not my son” or some shit like that…it was even funnier because I’m probably 15 years older than everyone else at the time. Then he proceeded to dig into his main ruck and pulled out a little MSR camp stove, espresso maker and coffee all while joking in his good natured way, “I’m your MF barista”…like that. So he goes through the ritual of MSR stove shaker jet maintenance, “…got to shake it like this to get the carbon out…” “this little deal here is pressurize like a bomb… to make some bomb ass coffee” while we are chatting as he made and gave me his first brewed cup of coffee in Mosul. I was just a random dude attached to another platoon…we knew each other but were not close. He heard my plight, had the means to help and did not hesitate to do so. This typifies SGT Miller’s selfless and generous nature, he always had a smile/smirk and time to chat. Wherever you are now, know that you’re missed here.
