Jason Lewis: October Newsletter

Sometimes we put our hair up and rock out. I don't think I sent this picture out yet but I have grown tired of taking pictures and had to mine the archives for a good photo. This is a lighter moment during the past year when I joined with a few other soldiers and we put a show on. It was only a one show affair for the 4 th of July and to the chagrin of my fellow rockers I quit the band to focus on coming home. The soldiers loved it and we had a great time practicing and doing the show. Oh yea, the band is called "The Haifa Street Project." You can Google it and read more about us.

I am 5 days out from the one year mark. One year ago I left my family to come over here. One year ago Elizabeth, Cambria and I were on Vashon Island in Washington to say all the things we needed and wanted to say (Cambria didn't say much except ba ba ba.). It was one year ago that we made that two hour drive to the Portland Airport feeling all the weight of what we were about to do-say goodbye. I had been to too many funerals over the previous three years to be ignorant of the fact that I might not come home. One of the funerals I attended in Texas was that of an Army Captain a year younger than me. His beautiful wife sat on the front row of the Church holding their
1 year old daughter. I sat in the back holding my 5 month old daughter. She looked haggard and dazed by the events of a past week and a signal moment that for her, took her husband away, left her a single mom, and thrust her out into an uncertain sea. I felt the agony for a moment of my wife being in that position. I touched her to make it go away. His father and younger brother-he only had one sibling-spoke a tribute together of their lost son and lost brother. They spoke of their confidence in his faith in Christ and how they would see him again. But they admitted with heart-wrenching transparency that nothing could be said or done to fill the void. The void was too dark for the moment and all they seemed to ask for is a moment to memorialize their hero.

Of all the losses that one hit the closest to home. So much of the blessings that can be had on this earth: A beautiful wife, a precious child, a home, a good job, health, future, family was gone for this soldier. I've often prayed in dangerous situations, "Lord, not for my sake, but for the sake of Elizabeth and Cambria, get me through this." I can't stand the thought of another man taking my place-an inevitable and practical solution for a young and widowed woman with a child. And I have prayed with the fervent conviction that no one would care for the wife of my youth and my child like me. God reminds me that he can-with or without me. Yet the promises of heaven can wait: just give me the time to raise my family and accompany my wife to old age, or so I find myself negotiating at times.

Regardless, I am alive today and focused more on the present. We have today and that is what we can count on. Someone asked Martin Luther what he would do if he knew the world was ending tomorrow. Luther's reply, "I'd plant a tree." I've learned that all of the ominous and actual tragedies that happen around us, magnified by the promotion of them in the news, can have the corrosive effect of wearing away our optimism and hope for the future. Even worse, we become introspective, selfish and isolated from the one true constant throughout the universe and why we are here-to love and be loved.
So with that thought in mind I propose to plant a tree, keep on rocking, spread the love. It began with Christ and continues to flow from there-constant, accessible, totally dependable. Always dependable. One news letter to go.

From: Dan Lao

19 October 2007

This will be one of my last entries of the deployment; it may be the last. I think this might also be the longest as I suddenly have so many memories I want to record. Some are still vivid and will be easy to recall. Others have already begun to fade and this is my attempt to hang on to them before they fade and join lessons of chemistry and history in the depths of my unused brain cells.

Right now I'm half sitting, half reclining on a bunk bed with my feet off the side of the bed propped up on a folding chair. My bunk bed is one of about 15 inside a tent with a few fluorescent lights and outlets, where I have been living with my platoon for the past week. The plywood floor is covered in dust and the smell of 30 pairs of feet wafts through the air. But it's a fair trade when thinking that this is only a transient place of lodging until we get on a plane that will take us home.

Looking back on this deployment, I will remember my first time on a convoy going to meet my platoon for the first time. I will remember being amazed at the sight of frost in Iraq. I will never forget the smell of that tent at Yusufiyah after our platoon lived in it for 45 days.

One of my favorite memories and some of my most fulfilling times will be those late nights while out on mission, staying up and talking to my Soldiers. I will remember sitting on top of our trucks waiting for darkness to fall so we could travel under cover of darkness; I'll remember talking with my guys about things we missed back home, hearing the occasional sound of small arms fire and wanting to pretend as if I didn't hear it.

My conversation with PFC (now SPC) Johnson is one of my favorites. It was too hot to sleep and the area we were in was generally safe, so I wandered outside to get some fresh air. I found two of my guys, Moisio and Johnson out smoking. I accepted a cigarette from them for two reasons 1) because it was one less that they had to smoke and 2) it was fun to flick off the ashes while they laughed at me and told me I hold cigarettes like a girl. After a while, Mo (Moisio) went to bed and left me and JJ (Jared Johnson is his full name) talking about life. We talked about his life, his family, how he used to be a good boxer, how drink and glamour made him a bad boxer, and how he joined the army. We talked about how he had almost gotten kicked out of the army, but had since gone on to do so well that the Sergeant Major wanted him as his driver. We talked about dreams and about his goal to again be a good boxer. He has since that night gone on to be the Sergeant Major's driver, and while I was sorry to lose him from my platoon, it is a great accomplishment for him. He has regained the rank he lost a year ago, and he has quit smoking. That night and nights like that are the ones I will remember.

Whenever I see the rear view mirror on a humvee, I will remember the mornings when those mirrors were used to shave some mornings; and how some of those mornings, nothing tasted better than a Blueberry Otis Spunkmeyer muffin with coffee brewed with an MRE heater.

I will remember fondly my conversations with SSG Ferrer about God, meaning, and morality. While we usually ended up at the same place we began, I thoroughly enjoyed our talks, our debating, and our struggling to use big words that neither of us could spell in an attempt to sound intelligent.

I learned more about cars and NASCAR than I ever thought or wanted to from SSG Greene. I didn't know that you could talk for 2 and a half hours about cars; apparently you can. With ease. I will remember how SSG Greene made it is secondary vocation this deployment to let me know whenever I made a mistake or miscalculation; and I did the same for him, always with a laugh and a smile.

I will smile when I think about how I sometimes laughed so hard at in our conversations. I will laugh when I think about how close our platoon became. Call it comfortable, tight, open; sometimes it was downright strange, but in a way that can only be understood by those who have laughed at their friends in their most embarrassing moments, our platoon became the most ruthless, welcoming, shameless, and fiercely loyal group I have ever been part of. Maybe it is only in the heat (literally) and stress we faced together, a group could ever be forged so closely together.

I will never forget the Soldiers in my platoon and the NCOs who led them. I will never forget how hard they worked and how they motivated me. I don't know at what point in time it happened, but sometime during the deployment, being able to say you were part of 3rd Platoon, "Third Herd" became a thing of pride; a badge of honor. That is because of the Soldiers. My successes and triumphs are a credit to them, and I hope that they realize that.

Sitting here, less than two weeks away from going home, I am thankful for this time to be drawing to a close, but will miss the time spent with my Soldiers. Over the past year, I cannot tell you how much your prayers, letters, and care packages meant to me. My Soldiers often joked that my room was like a small store because of all the snacks. Nobody complained when I brought all those snacks out on our missions though. As my time here runs short, please pray for me and my men. Again, thank you for reading as I haphazardly through my thoughts down. And thank you for your prayers.

See you soon
By Grace,
Dan

Jason Lewis: September Newsletter

I was speaking to a senior officer this week and we were discussing marriage and deployment. He said a marriage that is having trouble before a deployment will fall apart during it. Conversely, a good marriage will get even stronger. I can honestly say that Elizabeth and I are stronger. After nine and half months of separation we picked up right where we left off; and the intensity of our love and the goodness of seeing each other was glorious.
Throw a beautiful baby girl into the mix and I was overwhelmed by how good life can be. All the dirt and grime of life in Baghdad absolutely faded during those 18 days of vacation. Like I was never even there. The picture is of Elizabeth, Cambria and I in Salzburg, Austria. We took a spin on the horse carriage and Cambria got to sit up front with the driver for a bit. Cambria is definitely mama's child for a bit longer but I suspect daddy's little girl is just around the corner. She seemed to have that look that says, "who's the guy in bed with mommy?" for a couple of days. As she warmed up it was dadda this, dadda that. We played the binky game and I liked carrying her on my back as we walked places. I think I have finally reduced life to its simplest
point: joy. If C.S. Lewis was surprised by joy, I was completely relieved to see it still in the world. After the gravity of all the business we are about in Iraq, the freshness of simple joy at being in the presence of people you love and people who love you is all the salve the soul needs to heal. I highly recommend big doses to everyone. I am at less than 90 days till I exit theater, and then on to Fort Bragg, North Carolina. The Army made me an offer I couldn't refuse and Elizabeth and I decided during our leave that the Army is still the place for us. It was actually a huge relief not to need to face another career choice with woman and child in tow. The truth is I love the Army most days and can't stand it others. I guess I will have more times of being on the verge of leaving. Like I've said before, so hard to know exactly what to do on this earth-keep breathing, eating and drinking water are the only definitives. After that its mostly luxuries. Of course God intends to pull us up farther from grub-hunting, dirt scrappers. I think most of mankind is doing fine by that standard. In any case Elizabeth and I are all about counting our blessings now. With a grueling separation under our belt we are past the tough part and are thankful for each other, our family and how incredibly good God always is. And not only to us- my brother and sister in law have added the most beautiful girl to our family. Havilah was born four days ago and I can't wait to see her. http://elizabethhoneycutt.blogspot.com
Here is a website for any of you that want to take a look at my niece. I highly recommend it. For those easily driven to envy avoid the site-its hard to get a much prettier baby. As to newsletters we are fast approaching the end of these updates. You have two more. I can't think of a better milestone. I love you all.

Jason Lewis: Man's Best Friend?

Greetings all,

As you see I am petting a Cheetah. I try and sum up the craziness and odyssey of life in Baghdad with one seminal picture each month. I had to decide between this picture and the monkey eating the cigarette. I couldn't get myself in with the monkey since one, he is in a cage, and two, I was afraid he would have a nicotine fit and tear my head off. My second trip to the zoo was a highlight of the five months I have been here. We actually did a detailed assessment of the zoo and it is a fully functional facility that cost 20 cents to get in and has people walking around enjoying themselves. We all were like little kids looking at the animals which included 6 lions that are fed 8 donkeys a day from the herd that grazes just next door. These lions used to be pets of Uday Hussein and looked at us like they knew what we tasted like. The Cheetahs were Sadaam's pets. There was a 100 year old turtle that was a longtime resident of the zoo. Two porcupines that decided to mate in front of us: I was more amazed than anyone else at this particular sight arguing that it must be one of the most rarely observed events in all of nature. No one shared my enthusiasm. And a true Arabian Camel that can travel 1000 miles in the desert without water-so I am told. Yes, it was a glorious day at the Baghdad Zoo until we had to say goodbye to all our new found friends-the lions seemed especially sorry to see us go.

But life is not all a zoo like my father liked to tell me.
Serious work has been afoot as well. From the ground I can tell you the surge is working. The nature of attacks against civilians and coalition forces has changed. They are desperate attacks that are trying to shock the populace into Chaos. I think the vast majority of the populace is starting to get very angry at those attacks. On the flip side I think the surge needs to be over quick and re-deployment needs to happen quickly as well. We don't want to tempt success-we have had very little of it out here and what good we can accomplish in the next few months should be followed up by an announcement to phase re-deploy soldiers. My first four months was an extremely dangerous time and I am glad that things have become safer. Part of that is due to us moving our battle space to the heart of Baghdad.
Believe it or not, things are fairly organized and prosperous in the center right outside the Green Zone.

My daughter turned one year old on the 11th and I am incredibly amazed at life and how it takes its course. I am excited about the video Elizabeth took of the Birthday party. I will finally get to see Cambria walking. Am I alone in feeling how fast life goes? How susceptible we are to so many life ending things that to make it to even one year old is an accomplishment. I remember attending Elizabeth's Great-grandmother's funeral a couple of years ago and thinking how awesome it was that someone could start from a struggling sperm among millions of others, wait quiescently in the womb of another fragile human being, survive infancy to climb through adolescence into puberty and bloom to adulthood-and still you continue. Your body breaks down, you age, you pass the years, one after the other, while countless others, younger than you, end the trek. And there we were celebrating the life and legacy of a woman who lived 88 years. I was fascinated by the accomplishment for someone to live so long, but I have that same fascination at my own daughter living even one year. We are confronted with death on a daily basis here. Death in its most gruesome aspects, death mostly of the young- and I wonder at the gift God gives us, and eventually God takes. A gift that can be so marred and extinguished, precious as it is, just seems to be beneath a loving God.

I believe with my whole heart God is completely good. I believe he is completely reasonable. I believe he is absolutely in control. So what's with this gift he gave us? Here is the point. Life is a gift, but it is the gift before the inheritance. This life is a small token of breath and goodness that whets the spiritual appetite for the inheritance of everlasting life, constant joy and endless friendships that cannot be killed. I hope that each of you can grasp this. I hope the speed and vibrancy of this life is not dulling your senses to the true everlastingness that you possess. I want for my friends and family nothing less then confidence in the face of any fear or challenge and I think what I am communicating is one key. The ultimate key is always Jesus Christ and him crucified. There is no mistake why the cross of Christ is still and always will be the centerpiece of Christianity.
It is God sharing our deepest anxiety and then leading the way to our highest hopes fulfilled.

I hope that this deployment and this war if anything has made us all appreciate the life we have in the United States. We really do enjoy more tokens of breath and goodness in America than many other places in the world and we should be constantly thankful to God that he allows this. I for one cannot wait to see my cousin Josh and pop the cork on that bottle of Merlot we bought in San Fran last year. I especially am looking forward to holding my daughter, kissing my wife on the lips, shooting Billy's service pistol, starting a business with my brother (oh yea, I've put in paperwork to get out of the Army), and gather at Christmas for a family reunion. Blessings for now and I will write, Enshallah, next month.