(no subject)
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Every time I pick up the Stars and Stripes, there's another headline that reads, "Two Soldiers died yet again." in big, bold print. It's disconcerting because that is always the biggest news of the day. Granted the Stars and Stripes is the Military's version of the [..insert hometown newspaper here..] and it's their job to report the happenings of the War on Terror, but I just feel as though we are seriously deprived of news that matter more to us. This is just my perspective on the matter. Even the military's media representation is lackluster at best. I just wished the publishers would at least try to represent/provide us with a more upbeat paper. Give me news of home. Give me news I can cherish, like the letters I seldom get. We see and hear violence enough as it is, with our very own eyes and ears. I don't want to read about it every fucking day for a whole year.
Considering their moral obligation to their profession, to report the news as is, whether it be uptempo and full of hope, or dreary and full of death, I appreciate the fact that we get any sort of newspaper out here, I really do, but once again, their journalistic views have let me down. There are so many stories to tell. Ask one soldier and he could literally ramble off hundreds of them. So many different perspectives and insights on the matter, but yet they choose not to print it. The bulk of the subjects normal soldiers view as newsworthy is, unfortunately, not in their eyes. It's gotten so bad that I don't even read the first half of the paper anymore. I flip straight to the sports section. [It's not so uncommon to do this.] At least then, my mind can wander a bit and even, if only for a little while, I can catch a glimpse of what's going on with my favorite team back at home. I can pretend that I'm back at the house, cheering them on in the comforts of my own living room.
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"Two 11th ACR Soldiers fatally wounded in an IED explosion."
That was the headline a couple of weeks ago. This time though, the headline hit a little to close to home. My unit is attached to another brigade, but we are essentially a part of the 11th ACR. We were deployed 6 months prior to the 11th ACR's arrival, in country. The majority of my buddies from Fort Irwin deployed with them. I was actually originally from another unit, but as 58th were given larger tasks and missions, they called back to 'Irwin' asking for more personnel. I was one of a handful chosen.
"You are the most qualified mechanic we have", was the bullshit they tried to feed me.
We were given a choice, sort of. Whether I was truly the 'chosen one' or not, I knew it was just a matter of time before I was to make my presence felt in Iraq. I get asked all the time why I volunteered to come over here.
"I really couldnt tell ya", I'd say.
But I knew why. I figured it would either be me, or some fresh face kid coming straight out of A.I.T. [Training]
They gave two of us a choice. Two mechanics, one slot. The other guy was a friend of mine.
"One of you will be going over there in a matter of days", they said.
Him and I got to 'Irwin' roughly the same time.[I think he got there a week before I did] Just like myself, the other guy just came off of a Hardship-tour in South Korea. Unlike myself, however, he is married with two kids. In a span of two years, he's maybe seen his kids, altogether, for about 2 months? I just couldn't deal with the guilt of having him do another year away from them. Plus, getting to go to war, come on...., imagine the stories that would come out of this. So I volunteered to go in his place. You want to know whats really fucked up? He got orders to come over here anyways. Oh the irony. At least he had the opportunity to spend ten months at home with his loved ones.
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I pick up the paper as I enter the chowhall and the headline hits me like a bag of quarters. Crazy thoughts run rampantly through my mind.
Is it someone I know?
Is it a buddy of mine?
I pray, to any god listening, that it wasn't. My hands, literally trembling from the haunting images that my mind has already conjured up.
Don't let it be someone I know, I say to myself. My heart racing, a thousand beats a second, as I keep reading on.
"Two [captioned for the sake of somebody, somewhere]were fatally injured in an IED attack this afternoon."
.......
My heart slows down a couple hundred beats. I don't know these two [...**...]. Initially, I start to feel sort of relieved, but as the article starts to sink in, I am disgusted with myself for feeling that way. I realize that I don't feel much better, but I also don't feel any worse. It's terrible that I should feel this way. Those two men have families that loves them. They will surely miss them. They don't deserve this outcome as much as the next guy, but the powers that be decided that it was their time. I just feel rotten that I felt such a relief that it wasn't a buddy of mine. How am I suppose to feel? I don't really know, but my thoughts and prayers go out to the loved ones they left behind.
I know what its like to lose a friend to this tragic war. All that is left are memories of him, past memories. Never again will he be making new ones. He was only 21; gone way too soon. He didn't even have the chance to live. As we get older, we're all going to make a lot of mistakes in life. We also have the opportunity to learn from those mistakes and hopefully come out on top of this struggle we call life. What we do, after these hiccups, can/will someday, truly define what we're really made of. He will never get that opportunity. All thats left are memories.
I don't want to ever go through that again.
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I leave you with some pictures I took the other day.
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