Reflection

For now, it is the first time I am ready to start talking about my experiences in the military and overseas. My dreams every night are haunted by death and carnage from experiences that most people could not even dream of. Please do not misunderstand the tone in which I write this. My purpose is not to say I am against the war, or hated my experience in the military. In fact it is quite contrary. I just am strong enough to admit that those experiences have changed me, possibly for the worse. I have scars physically and emotionally that I see every day and that remind me of such experiences. The physical ones will never go away; I can only hope that over time, counseling, and self-reflection the emotional scars will disappear.

People always say that killing a person is the most difficult thing a person could ever have to do. I disagree, and although killing people is never easy, in the military it has a purpose, and if you do not kill first, you will be killed. I believe that the most difficult thing a person could ever do is to sit by and watch a friend die, helpless to do anything, holding that person and trying to tell them everything will be okay. My friends in the military were my brothers I never had. We shared such a camaraderie and went through such hard times that it was difficult not being close. We trusted each other with our lives and when someone died, it made us feel like we personally betrayed them.

On our mission, four of us were teamed up with a squad of Marines, several of them. Our mission was to go into “City A” and extract a source that had a lot of information the government wanted. I was not happy about the mission at all, I was not fond of the teaming with the Marines because they were cowboys, taught to be invincible and dumb enough not to think plans through fully. We were there mainly for support, so it was their show; we were just along for the ride. The Marines decided the best course of action would be to storm the building, without any INTEL. Just knock the door down and go in charging, again, something that I did not find smart, but I was in no position to argue. So myself and a Marine were stationed outside to provide cover fire if necessary and to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity on the outside. My fellow three team members were involved in the assault and stormed the building with the Marines.

If we would have had the time to collect INTEL on the building, we would have learned that the building was frequently used by an Al-Qaeda cell operating in the city. We also would have had more time to have surveillance on the “source” and would have learned he was actually playing both-sides, the terrorists and the US. We would have had the time to realize it was more than likely a setup, and would have had the time to formulate a more cunning plan than just busting down the door. Sadly, we did not have that time, and once the assault team had made it to the top of the building and realized no one was there, the building exploded, instantly killing all inside. One of my team members had just come outside the back before the building blew, and was severely injured in the blast. I conducted First Aid, held him, said prayer with him, and watched him die in my arms. This was my last mission overseas.

I requested to be instantly transferred into the Reserves with a duty station of Cincinnati, OH. I was not to be deployed or was drill mandatory for me. I am able to participate in military duties I wish, but am not made to do anything, and I was put in counseling after the events took place. My end of military time is March 2008, it is rapidly growing nearer and I personally will be sad when my time is up. I’ve recently been called a coward for not going back to active duty and reupping my commitment to the Military, but I hope that after reading about just ONE of the events that took place while I was over there, you can have a little more compassion and understanding as to why I cannot do those things any longer. I guess this little story can shed some light onto my lack of respect for most Marines. Every Christmas I write a letter to the families of my three brothers that died on that day. It’s hard to believe that I lived and they died, when I feel anyone of them was a better person than me. Sometimes, on very difficult days, I think that they are the lucky ones. They died doing something noble for our Country; I’m here ruining my life. But then I realize that this is just a pity-seeking activity and I increase my determination to actually do something “grand-scale” with my life.

Over the last year or so, I have seen certain affects the military has had on me. I am not the same person as I was when I left. I think one of the reasons I did not hang out with my high school friends as much when I got back is because I was afraid. I think that this fear has continued in my current relationships and has affected each and every one of them. As I said before, in Iraq, my friends were my brothers, and I saw countless amounts of them die or get seriously injured. I had to make countless phone calls and write numerous letters to families of fallen friends. And through all this, you would think that it would increase my ability to not take life for granted and live life to the fullest. On the contrary, the experiences have hindered my ability to form relationships with individuals. Getting close to someone, opening up, and trusting them with that responsibility, in my previous experiences, has only caused heartbreak and pain.