I had a soldier ask me where I was stationed over in Iraq. I said, "Back in 2004 I was at Camp Victory in Baghdad-Iraq." He looked at me and responded, "yeah I guess you had the soft side of things over in Iraq." For some reason I am not sure why I snapped back, "how do you figure that? We were shelled every night, I slept in a general purpose tent and every day I rode out in the red zones waiting for some person to kill me. It was not the 'soft side' of life like you think!" I was pissed, I was pissed at the thought that someone has taken my experiences and overall mission and thrown it in the toliet. Maybe I was not clearing houses everyday or sitting at the highway security checkpoint on Route Irish but I still was in harm's way. That made me start thinking about what life has been like back home from over there in the sandbox.



I first noticed that when I returned my family treated the whole incident as if I had spent summer vacation in Europe or something. No one talked about Iraq and no one asked me anything about my ordeal. I was thinking that maybe they forgot that there was a war on and that I had already completed two different missions over there. People interacted with me as nothinghad happened and that my attitude was wrong for being sometimes 'short' with them. I didn't act like this around my kids but my ex-wife (another product of this war) stated that she felt that I may place the kids in danger because of my nightime "flashbacks" and that she could see I was still suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I found that funny at the time that this person who never gave me any support let alone a means to discuss my fears to was now telling me I had a problem. When a close friend was blown to pieces during the April 2004 Sadr uprisings in An Najaf, Iraq, she told me that those feelings were my problems and I just had to deal with it and she didn't have the time to lend an ear.


Downtown Baghdad

I was bitter over the divorce, I was bitter that I felt like my life was sent into the trash can but I didn't let those feelings effect my job. I 'drove on' and dealt with it my own way. One way was with the bottle which I only did on the weekends to prevent sliding into a serious problem. I drank with NCOs and soldiers who had "been there and done that." Fellow service members who understood what I was saying and what we all had in common was that we made it out of the 'sanbox' and that we were still alive. But there are times when I still feel like I am over there. I slept with a 9mm pistol underneath my pillow for 3 months after returning to the states. I had a weapon always on me for so long that for a period of time it was the only way of getting to sleep. I stopped when I heard a low flying helicopter or the 'humm' of a C130 engines overhead. I got sick a few times when I was cooking on the grill and a piece of hamburger meat fell through the grill and started to burn. It reminded me of a few times when vehicles were hit and people were burnt alive. But other people especially people who have not seen things like that have a hard time understanding. How do you tell a 9 year old about death? How do you respond when your son ask you a question, "dad, have you ever killed a person before?" "Dad, why were you screaming last night during the thunderstorm? Why do you sometimes still jump low when you hear thunder?" I was sitting at a Cracker Barrell resturant one day when a small child began to scream. I was unaware why this child was screaming but I felt my hands shake and the sound of the scream made my body lock into a rigid position with my hands gripping the table. I was sweating and I thought I was back there watching these kids beg for water, food, medical supplies as we moved through Southern Iraq. I could see their faces as you felt helpless to do anything but you knew that some of these kids would be dead by sunrise. Same age as your own and we could hear these kids begging and screaming for anything that we had. I felt like I was right back there.

I tend to 'drift' sometimes back to the sandbox. A lot of times I think of the funny times and then sometimes I may see something that reminds me of the bad times. It is difficult to tell a "counselor" about war when they themselves have never left that state let alone seen a fellow soldier get hit or killed.



I am not bitter at the US Army or the reasons why I went over there. I went when the orders where given and I didn't attempt to 'skate' my way out of them. I am not the same person when I first left overseas back in September 2002 to Kuwait and then into Southern Iraq in 2003, and then back to Baghdad in January 2004. I am different. I take and soak up as much time as I can with my kids and friends. I have seen enough suffering children to last a life time. Mystory isjust one of many that are out there. I did not 'save the world' nor do I claim to. I know that there are many veterans who have not said anything yet dealt with more than anyone could imagine. To those who have served, are serving, or about to serve I say thanks. I say thanks to the fellow veterans of the previous wars and especially to our Vietnam and Korean veterans. Those veterans have given me a ton of support and a means to talk about issues that are hard to discuss.

Not sure if this story makes any sense but I hope it helps someone out there. You are not alone.


"Victory Palace" on Camp Victory


Under enemy mortar fire but still watching Alias Season 2 on DVD


The only Burger King in the world that couldn't get robbed. This is the old BK at BIAP (Baghdad International Airport). This site was moved to Camp Victory where you could wait for a 'whooper' with cheese and get shelled at the same time.

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