Friday, September 18, 2009

I've been published. . . sort of

Well I wouldn't have believed it, but indeed I am in a book. Not me as a charictor. ME. The person. I'm even quoted. This strange moment of celebrity is not without some doubt. I'm almost affraid to see what is written about me. See when I was deployed LTC Kauzralich or however you spell his name (we just called him "Killer K") always had this reporter at his hip. Almost always. Some said that he was writting a book to make the col look good so he could get his chickens. Fat chance I thought till I saw in army times that the SOB had actually managed to get promoted. I guess they'll promote anyone in the Army these days.

It's so weird though. There are the words. There is the scene. I remember them. It was a distant memory, long forgotten, and yet reading what David wrote, the words I said came right back to me. Dear God did I really say that? Yes, yes I did. Did I really talk about that? Yes, I did. What do you say to that? There are your words. "I feel sick all the time when we go out. I know we're going to get hit." Its weird. And reading what March said. . . It made me realize that I wasn't the only one that was suffering inside. I especially liked the end of the chapter about us.

"Phill went back to his ambien

Lt Hammel went back to his furnature

Bailey went back to his long loops around the FOB

Wheeler went back to his 'what ifs'

and March went back to his slideshow."

It seems strangly fitting. In the end he didn't talk about chargin down hundreds of insurgents, or saving babies. In the end he seems to suggest that the ultimate act of heroism was simply putting the vest on again and going outside the wire. Does that make me a hero? Does that make me brave? or stupid?

It inspired me to do something to aleviate some guilt. I called the New Haven register. Its time to set the record strait. His family has a right to know. He didn't die becuase he was tired or because he was given a bad mission. He died because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He died because you never see an IED till its too late. Never. I hope that I can convey the sense of loss, that he was loved, and that his loss hurt us too. That we hold on to him each day in our dreams.

Friday, September 11, 2009

8 years later

Now we stand. 8 years after the face. There have been tributes, and people have largely moved on. Kids now in college, too young often to remember or understand the events of September 11th 2001. Few are the people as directly affected by it. The families will always remember, as will the soldiers. But the public, in time will forget the horror the pain and the fear.

I can not, at this time tell you what i feel about that fact. Perhaps it is good in someway. Perhaps it is good that the public is not constantly tearing at the scab trying to relive the pain, but to me, the lack of somber attitude or, worse, awareness, is grating to the worst degree. I can not help but feel disheartened. The world saw the best, and the worst in humanity that day, things that ought not to be forgotten so easily.

I find that listening to women gossip about what clothes are worn or who goes out with who, on a day like today to be nearly intolerable. And yet, this is the very innocence I've fought to protect. Hearing one friend was going on a "Fascist America" bike ride nearly sent me through the roof. Such fools would allow such tragedies to happen based on narrow views that are far more intolerant than those they claim to oppose. That a dear friend, and one time lover, was doing it. . . really hurts. How? How can anyone think such things? If they had seen what I'd seen would they call Jihadis freedom fighters? NO! They would call them what they are, except I have yet to find one word in the English language filled with enough contempt and scorn for honorless thieves, murders rapists and cowards.

I've spent two 9/11's in a war zone, and 6 in the Army. I've been on staff Duty, and even went to a church service that day. and where, in all of this does the peace come? Where does the peace of mind come from knowing AT LAST this tragedy has been avenged and prevented from ever happening again? It doesn't come. It probably won't ever come, because sadly it is just as likely today as it was on 9/10 save the one key factor, we're aware of it now.

I know this war won't last much longer. It can't, but the thought of losing is just heart breaking. Especially when so much was sacrificed to get it done. Islamofascism can not be allowed to win or the next thing you will hear is "allah huakbar" on the city streets of New York itself.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Wish I knew someone here. . .

I think I can safely say that the biggest problem with college is simply put, THERE ARE SO MANY PEOPLE!!! How anyone can make "lifelong" friends in an institution this size is beyond me. I suspect that it has a lot to do with Fraternities and Sororities (the "Greek" societies) but even then, how the HELL does a person make friends with classes that take place in small amphitheaters!

This is no doubt the "culture shock" that I was expecting, but still. I'm surrounded by people and I feel pretty alone. I think that's just odd! Still, I do not feel empty. Not like I did a few short months ago. Is it because this is not Kansas? Or is it because I have a sense of purpose? I wouldn't know which. Still, it is good to get out from under the heel of oppressive PA's and giant not so there PSG's.

Classes are difficult, and my old friends heartburn and insomnia have returned with a vengeance. I was strangely asymptomatic before I got here, now my rhythm is all sorts of wacky. Some days I go to bed at 8 (2000) others I don't close my eyes till 0400. It really is in-freaking-sane. Something I wish I could fix.

The good news to come out of that though, I have begun hand writing (because my computer is broken ARG) one of the many stories that have been bouncing around in my head. I hope i can fill up the journal i bought before I lose interest again, but I'm sure I'll not be that lucky. Hopefully I can send it to Niki who can edit and type it, so i can add in other things send back to her proof read and whatever. End goal. I publish. I get PAID THIS TIME!!! (I'm still simmering about "Don't Quit" I can kind of see why Napster caused so many artists grief) and hey maybe my financial woes will be over. . . not likely but we've all got to have dreams don't we?

Thursday, September 3, 2009

A New Day in A New Place

Well sports fans, I'm out of the army. Ironically my last day was the 29th of april exactly 6 years 3 months after I joined. I'd like to say i did all I could to fight it but by that point I was tired of arguing with the Army. I kind of got steam rolled by the great beuracratic machine that is Uncle Sam. I'm also not going to lie and say that i wasn't a little glad to be out. Lets face it Ronny "I'm a Captain in the United States Army" Brock, for all his psudo concern made my life a living hell. I'm glad to be away from it. Now if I go back i go back on MY terms. Not theirs.

So what, you ask have I been doing with my life? Simple I've started college. Now this suave 25 year ols Freshmen is starting where? why West Virgina. WVU isn't the most prestigious college eever, nor is it the biggest, smnallest or a lot of other things. In ints own way however it is great. Only two weeks in WVU has welcomed me with open arms and for that they have earned my loyalty. (perhaps thats whty alumni are so proud)

What am i studying you ask? well. . . that's a matter of debate. See I wish I could say that I kne wbut the truth is I just pain don't. I haven't the foggiest on what the hell i want a degree in. But at the end of the day I know I need that degree. So get it I shall. More to come but for right now I've got to get to class.