|
|
|
A Reservist named James writes from Iraq.
Good days and bad days are easy to figure out in Iraq. It's a simple test by which I determine how my day went when I lay down to sleep at night. Good days are when you get any type of mail...snail mail, e-mail, packages, phone calls. Mail is a way by which the soldier keeps in touch with that which he loves and a grip on reality; a way in which he realizes that this place and time will pass and soon enough, he'll be home. A bad day is when you get shot at...by small arms fire, by rockets, by improvised explosive devices (IED), by vehicle borne IEDs (VBIEDs), or by suicide VBIEDs (SVBIEDs) (the military loves its acronyms).Posted by Ted at October 22, 2004 7:22 PMToday (Sunday 17 October 2004) was a good and bad day. It was a good day because I got a wonderful letter from my wife with an enclosed letter from a high school friend. It was a two for one deal when I opened the letter and connected me with her and my friend, Steve. It was a reminder of all I hold dear to my heart, a little piece of America on ink and paper.
It was also a bad day as I received news of a friend and fellow Civil Affairs company commander's death. Rob was a good officer that I had the privilege to meet while at our pre-deployment training this last summer. The quiet professional that you trusted from the first moment you met him; in his civilian life he was an optometrist who felt the call to make a difference. He volunteered out of the Medical Corps to Civil Affairs because he wanted to have a direct impact with people. He, like most of us here, felt compelled to leave our wife and children to follow the call for Duty, Honor, and Country. Rob was on a convoy when his vehicle was hit with an SVBIED.
Some will argue that Rob and our country threw away his life on a war that should have never been fought. I can understand the sediment but from my viewpoint as a soldier on the ground, there are things worth putting your life at risk for. The saying that freedom isn't free is as true today as it was for our forefathers in 1776, in 1812, in 1864, in 1914, and in 1941. The individuals who initiated this current conflict did so long before September 11, 2001, but the bulk of Americans were thrust into the battle on that day. For me, as for so many of my fellow Reserve service members, our world changed that day too.
What strikes me most about Iraq having been here for a while is it is a place of dichotomies. The environment is harsh with the dust (not dirt but fine dust) everywhere contrasted by trees that have thousands of birds in them. Insurgents trying to kill you contrasted by a barber that spends thirty minutes trying to teach you his language when you say hello in Iraqi. Hot, hot days contrasted by clear, starry nights. Little boys mixing and pouring cement under the guidance of Seabees contrasted by the wholesale killing of families.
The one thing that is constant, however, is the Iraqi people's desire to be free and determine their own destiny as a nation. No matter who you talk to, they are a proud people that desire to make their own way. Freedom and the right to choose is something they have not experienced for thousands of years. Just as Afghanistan held its first elections in 5000 years, the elections in Iraq will provide the freedom this nation has not seen for generations.
The insurgents here use fear, just as Saddam did, to try to make the people submit to the insurgents control. They blow up, behead, and execute those that refuse to submit. Fear remains an effective tool pushing the average Iraqi around sapping their will to fight back. However, they are. I have seen and read of so many brave Iraqis fighting and dying for the privileged to vote and the ability to be free. It's when that freedom and self-determination has matured that we, the dog-footed soldier, will go home.
So as you sit, read the newspaper, and drink your cup of coffee this morning, say a word for Rob's family. He'll be coming home before the rest of us. He paid the price to keep freedom free.