I was driving to work last week and the clouds were brewing up something. I opened my window and took in a deep breath of the smell of rain. It really doesn’t smell any different no matter where you go. It has that unique scent to it. For me it brings back certain memories now. That will come later.

I was coming up to an Army Recruiter office. So I pulled in the parking lot and sat there for a minute looking out my window at the clouds. I must have looked like an idiot but I really didn’t care. All that went through my mind was what to say. Why am I even there?

So I walked in and some young Staff Sergeant greets me. I size him up, CIB (Combat Infantry Badge) – check, 3RD ID Combat Patch – check. I sit down and he asks the basic recruiter questions. Have I ever served – check. Age, residence, etc, etc, etc. So he looks at his sheet and looks at me and asked me what do I want to do? I told him that I am merely interested in getting some facts. I am not making any concrete decisions at the moment. He asked me if I did go in where I would go. I told him Ft. Lewis, WA. I have this thing about that place. I served there when I was on active duty. Now its home of the Stryker Brigade. I think that unit is hot shit. I’d very much like to go to war with them too. I don’t know why, but I just do.

So we share a few stories about Iraq and laugh like two soldiers would about the exploits of life as ‘Joe’. His boss comes walking in and for some reason I always look for two things on a uniform. A CIB and a combat patch. His boss was wearing neither. I don’t know if I am a dick for thinking like that but I just have a different type of respect for soldiers who have a CIB and those who don’t. I guess I’m a dick, but I wear one and earned it shedding my blood next to fellow brothers who did the same. Not some of these guys that get shot at once and claim to be GI Joe with their shiny Combat Action Badge. Yes it is the mocked version of the coveted CIB. That’s another story I guess.

Anyway, back on track. I was in civilian clothes so his boss just looked at me like another applicant. He even went as far as talking about me like I wasn’t there. “Ensure we get all info on this applicant.” He says.

As he was going in his office he said “Does this applicant know what he wants to do?” I was thinking to myself, yeh I want to drop kick your stupid face into your wooden door and hog tie you. Then ask him why does the non combat, non CIB wearing prick talk like people aren’t there. Have some fucking respect, not just for me but for any person sitting in that chair.

I quickly shrugged it off; playing that scenario in my head I smirked and turned back to the other recruiter. I leaned in and whispered that his boss was a prick. He smiled and turned back to his paperwork.

At that point I got all my questions answered and was done. I got the recruiters card and said I’d be in touch.

I walked out of the office and it started to rain. I stood there for a moment and look at the sky. I closed my eyes and remembered for a moment when I was in Iraq. We had just got done a mission and I was nasty from a long mission. My face dirty from mud whatever else from that shit hole. My uniform stained with blood from some shit bag that died trying to be Mr. Jihad from the night before. I remembered the rain pouring down and sort of cleansing me. Maybe more as a mindset than literally. I could taste the salt from my sweat seeping into my mouth from my hair. The dirt and grime dripping onto the ground. I just let the rain pour on me and I embraced that moment. I opened my eyes and there I was, safe at home. Not in uniform, not tired from any mission. I was still the same man just on the other side of the planet now. However every time it rains, that vivid memory brings me back.

The recruiter’s card still sits in my wallet. Maybe I will use it when the rain comes again.

33 Comments
General

I don’t roll in the numbers that I use to. However I am one of the original Milblogs that started the trend. I’ve got to get as many nominations as possible or I will not be considered a candidate. Learn this from the 2004 awards and I was too busy getting ready for Iraq in 2005. So lets see what impact we can do.

If you want to nominate me you can visit them site at: Best Military Blog

Best of luck to all the nominees.

15 Comments
General

What can I say. It’s a double edge sword. From a person who firmly believes in this war, it’s hard to see the architect of the Iraq war go away.

nuff said on my part!

21 Comments
General

I don’t usually repost comments from my threads but this one sums up my mindset and what it means behind the slogan ‘Support our Troops’.

To David, thank you!

I really like it when people try to straddle the fence on, “I support the solders but hate the war.” Usually such fuzzy thinking then turns to a hatred of George W. Bush (Commander in Chief) and then somehow also gets back to agreeing with many of the articles that newspapers like the New York Times publishes. For many, there is a disconnect between being able to support the soldier, but then actively campaigning against either the job or the command structure that puts that soldier in harms way. There is that failure to realize that that split decision harms the soldier as that warrior realizes the hypocrisy of such a decision.

If you really support the soldier, you would do anything to get the job done; to give that soldier (he/she) all they need to do the job; to support them in their decision to go (and to fight), and to come home when (and only when) the job is finished. If you agree to the redeployment (cut and run) then you end up under cutting the warriors that are on the front lines of this war. So, how can you support the troops, when you vote and decide issues that are counter to the well-being and care of our warriors?

As I stated, if you support the warriors (soldiers) then you want to make sure they get what they need ( in tactical, logistical and moral) to complete the job; but also that they finish the job they set out to do. Any other decision undercuts the warrior; and reveals to that individual where the true loyalty lies (which is not to the solder.)

If there are discussions (and thing were/are done wrong in this war) lets win it first, then go back and see what we need to improve and/or change. That is the appropriate time to do so; not when our men and women are on the front lines, defending our right and freedoms as Americans.

Maybe, the question needs to be asked, “What are you willing to die for?” Is there any cause that you would be willing to lay down your life? Your God? Your freedom? Your children’s Freedom? The Freedom of this great country of ours?

AS found that there are decisions in life that have to be made. He volunteered for service, and thank God he came back. He did what needed to be done so that many of us can give him a heart felt thanks, while others can put silly remarks on this blog about his sacrifice and the decisions he and his lovely wife (and the new arrival) have made.

THX AS

13 Comments
General

So no shit there I was driving to work and in the distance I could see some signs on an overpass. I figured I’d pass some ‘Welcome home Soldier or Marine’ signs like normal. Not on this day. There were about 7 anti-war/anti-bush signs. At first I just shook my head and I drove on. I got about a mile down the road and I found myself pulling off the highway to turn around. I could feel the adrenaline course throw my veins.

At first I began to get angry because here are some signs that clearly go against everything within my character and what I believe in. The image of me getting out of my car and ripping the signs down kept repeating itself. Yeah I said to myself, go rip those signs down and you will feel better.

I was approaching the overpass and I saw two guys standing in the middle of the bridge on the sidewalk. One was an older man and another a little older than I. I slowed down and rolled down my window. The first thing I said was “Do you see the medal on my plate?” I have a Purple Heart plate. They looked over and began to tell me how they support the troops but not the war. I responded by saying that the medal is more than me being injured. It’s about honor and sacrifice.

I asked how they could support the troops but not the war?

So the dialogue went on for about 40 minutes. I never got out of my car; I just sat comfortably in my vehicle. We exchanged points about the war and what is really going on over there. I explained to them what I did over there. They said it was a fool’s war. I told them that it wasn’t and they were being misled with whatever political slant or stance they have with it. I told them that we needed to have stability in the Middle East and Iraq was the prime place for it. I told them that like most people, we did the right thing by going in Afghanistan. However the Middle East needed to have stability. I explained the strategic reason why Iraq was the prime place. I told them what countries borders Iraq and how it was the center piece for that area. Saddam needed to be taken out regardless; he was a ruthless leader, etc, etc. I explained to them that the knee-jerk reaction to 9/11 included Iraq. It was just a matter of time.

I said to them that if they thought this was a fool’s war, then what about the next conflict? Is that going to be another fool’s war? Should we let the people depict what is a fair war? Should we hold votes to decide what kind of war is right for the US? It doesn’t work like that I told them. We are given the rights we have for the sacrifices of men and woman who serve our nation. I told the younger guy that it is a privilege he has to be standing on this bridge protesting the war and our government. I said you know if he were in Iran he would be shot and drag through the streets. I told him how dare he say he supports the troops but not the war that I nearly died in?

The conversation went full circle and I said many times that I disagree with what they were doing. They even invited me to one of their ‘candle light vigils!’ I had to restrain myself from laughing. I simply declined.

Then the older gentleman asked me if I had a problem with them executing their freedom of speech. I looked him in the eyes and I said. There is an organization that preaches the same message outside of Walter Reed Hospital. They go there and defile a sacred ground that today’s warriors go to die or recover from their wounds. I said that he is no different than those people; he is only separated by 1500 miles between his picket sign and theirs.

He didn’t know what to say at that point. He started to say something and I cut him off. I responded by saying: “If I had to do it again that I would willingly volunteer to go fight in any war my nation puts in front of me. The reason is I want to be there for my fellow soldier. If I could save another soldiers life through my experience then I can rest good at night. What makes him sleep peacefully at night?”

I rolled up my window and drove away and went to work.

49 Comments
General