American Soldier says,
As of late I have often reflected on the past year events. It was a year ago that I had returned from the relief efforts for Katrina. I was dealing with some things that would steer me towards volunteering for Iraq. To be quite honest life had taken a different direction. I had a book deal, my career was very solid. Externally it would appear that life was good. However I was dealing with some things that really influenced me to go to war. I wanted to experience that aspect. I wanted it in my life.
So it was a matter of time before I found myself training up and heading out. I wished I could have documented it more but it was my experience and mine to endure if that makes any sense. I quickly withdrew from posting my daily activities because simply put I didn’t have the time to do it. When I got to Iraq it was balls to the walls from the start.
I remember my first mission and the intensity I felt within. Every time I left the wire I knew I could possibly not come back. It went from stressful to exhilarating. I lived for mission. I would sometimes volunteer to go out on dual missions. Being a sniper for 12 hours then transitioning to being a soldier on patrol. People in my unit thought I was fucking stupid. I didn’t care really. My fate was my fate and if I were to perish in Iraq then that was the place. I wore myself out. Doing dual missions cost me sleep and the ability to document the trip. It granted me the experience I wanted.
It was no longer what is AS doing in Iraq. It was surviving! Why would I do this? I didn’t have a logical answer. Why would I go and willingly do a battle assessment of a cache of rockets and bombs? Literally going over and checking on the status of those munitions with the possibility of being blown the fuck up? I don’t regret anything I did but I certainly wasn’t worried about being blown up. Some soldiers thought I was careless in some situations. I look at it like I was willing to do shit that others wouldn’t do.
It was my time to experience this war. I was not going to cower to nothing!
The day I got blown the fuck up I was doing my typical duty. Patrolling the streets and waiting to get hit. My crew had the daunting task of going into the city limits and looking for IED’s. This process included going down roads with walls on either side, typical kill zones. We would take corners with piles of shit mounted on either side. Were there IED’s in there? Fuck lets find out!! Going in on alternating routes so the enemy wouldn’t figure out our pattern and ambush us. Most days we got those fuckers setting up on us. Somedays they got us and we would fight for our lives.
I hated this mission to be honest. Every time I would prepare for a mission I would think man is this going to be it? I would look at my guys and hope I didn’t have to see their dying face. I had to lead them into hell and I had to be the strong one. Man it fucking sucked knowing that I was just leading them into a mission that would/could end their lives. I knew it was a matter of time before I would get hit. I would sit in my bed when I had the chance to sleep and wonder how it would play out. I hoped that I wouldn’t feel it. I didn’t want to suffer when it happened or my soldiers for that matter. This was my mindset. Mentally preparing for my own demise. Some days I would go to the chow hall and get food thinking this was probably the last meal I was going to have. I just had different feelings. Typically on those nights someone was getting killed, shot or near missed. It was weird, it’s like I knew some things were going to happen. Call it intuition but I hated it.
I look back at it now and I knew it was by luck or some fucking weird fate that I got out of there. Some of the shit that happened over there amazes me now. I was looking through some of the casualty reports and it feels weird to see my name on an OIF Wounded list. That could have very well been a KIA listing. It is all too surreal for me.
Where do I go from here? I am really trying to get back on the straight and narrow but its tough man. There are days like today that I just want to go back. I do miss the brotherhood I shared with my guys. I don’t get what I need with this one weakened a month shit. Fuck that! Besides, I despise my unit that I am in. I cannot relate to any of them. They haven’t been where I was and didn’t do the type of job I did.
I have had thoughts of hanging up the civilian career and going back fulltime. However my wife would probably not like that too much. I would not be able to maintain my level of income so my house would go, car, etc, etc. Is it worth it? Some days I think it is.
It has been six years since I have been a fulltime soldier. I have done my title 10 stints hear and there but nothing compares to it. It is the happiness that I have realized that I need.
So what is this point about? I really have no clue. So today I just put my brain on write mode and didn’t care what I wrote. So here you go.