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
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