unwanted feelings

I turned the radio up so that I couldn't possibly hear anything else and notched the speedometer to just a tick under 100 mph. I was on my way to work at around 9pm and upset about something; nothing calms me down quite like deafeningly loud music and driving fast.

It was about 9 months or so after I originally got out of the Army, and I still had these uneasy feelings of guilt that came crashing down over me. They were usually triggered by a news report or hearing from one of my buddies still deployed. It would start as a little pang of guilt and quickly work itself into a full storm of anger on top of guilt. I wasn't even sure what I felt so bad about, which is what brought the anger on. I served a year in Afghanistan, I did my time honorably. Why should I feel bad about not having to go through all that again?

My initial decision to leave the military was a tough one, but I never had any real doubt about what I wanted. The biggest, and most obvious reason for me to get out was to start a family, which would be pretty tough to do if I was deploying every other year. There were other reasons though, and plenty of them. Still, a ridiculous deployment schedule was far and away reason numero uno.

The hardest part, though, was leaving the people. There is nothing in the world like the bond that gets formed between people in the military. The collective act of embracing the suck together forms bonds that are nearly impossible in any other organization. Try spending 10 rainy days in the box (also know as the training area) with 20 guys in the swamp-like conditions at Ft Polk and you'll know what I mean.

Of course, breaking that bond can have some pretty tough consequences. Sure, Soldiers PCS (permanent change of station) and change units all the time, but your not really breaking the bond because you go on to form new ones. So when I left the military, and all of my military friends deployed again to either Iraq or Afghanistan, I felt like the biggest dirt ball on earth. How could I be happy with my new car and house and wife when my friends were 6000 miles away embracing the suck together, again?

So I stopped watching the news. Didn't even pick up a newspaper. Listened to alot of sports radio. I still kept in contact with my friends who were deployed, but kept it to once a month or so. Then my best friend, Mark, got recalled off the IRR and I almost lost it. At that point I had a pretty firm grip on my choice and was even starting to feel truly happy about it, but the news that he would have to go back into Active Duty after over a year of being out was tough to swallow. So the cycle started up for me again. The random feelings of guilt and anger that would cycle on and off, pissing me off even more when I couldn't just be happy for what I had.

Eventually, though, that subsided as well. It happened more toward the end of Mark's deployment, when all my other friends were home and had subsequently ETSd (Expiration of Term of Service) themselves. One day, though, I had this sudden realization that I not only accepted my decision to get out, I was happy about it. I mean, my job was going great, Rachael and I were as happy as a couple could be and were thinking about starting a family. I had a lot of hope that when Mark got home for good, I could finally be rid of the nagging guilt I seemed to carry around with me all the time.

I never got the chance to see if that was the case, though. Soon after I accepted happiness I got a letter in the mail. I guess I wouldn't have a choice about feeling guilty for anything. Looking back, I laugh at what I felt and even how I phrase it as "accepting happiness". I mean, seriously, did it really have to be that difficult?

Awards Rant, Part I

Once upon a time in the Green Zone (IZ), there was stationed a Lieutenant who worked at a desk. This LTs sole purpose in life (at least, his life for the 6 months he was in the IZ) was to determine the equipment needs of the Iraqi Army and procure the necessary supplies. This was a vitally important function to the establishment of a new Iraqi Army, but it rarely required him to leave his desk, in his cubby hole, in the heavily fortified Green Zone. When LT did have to leave his desk, it was usually to do the normal things people must do - eat, sleep, go to meetings, and smoke cigars. It is upon the latter thing that our story takes place today.

One day the LT was outside his office, smoking a cigar with a few other people. They were having their normal discussion, minding their own business, when some pesky insurgents lobbed a 60mm mortar from an unknown location far, far away. Unfortunately, this mortar happened to land close to the LT and his cigar buddies. Not close enough to hurt any of them, but close enough so that their table shook and they heard a big portion of the loud explosions that mortars make. As anyone who lives in the IZ knows, mortars are an unfortunate part of life. So they scrambled for cover, waited for the "All Clear" signal, and went about life.

Nothing came of this, but a week or so later, the LT decided he was having some hearing problems. He also decided that it was a result of the mortar attack that he narrowly escaped. Now, I've been pretty damn close to many a mortar and rocket, and when they land, they tend to shake you up, and they are loud. However, like most Soldiers, I shake them off and go back to business as usual. Occasionally I hear air being hissed from a truck and get goosebumps, but nothing major. Not our LT, though. He was permanently damaged (actually, the doctor diagnosed temporary hearing loss).

With medical diagnoses in hand, our brave LT went about the cumbersome task of writing himself up for not one, but two combat awards - the Purple Heart and the Combat Action Badge. On the first pass up his chain of command, poor LTs awards were denied. However, he seized opportunity when it became available int he form of a change in his command structure; he presented his packet to the new commander and up his award went.

A few weeks went by and LT re-deployed to the US, his insufferably long 6 month deployment finally over. Nothing was said of this award until a close informant confirmed the impossible - LT received not one, but both highly honored combat awards. And he deserved them - after all, the long patrols he went on, and the nights he spent trying to stay awake guarding his remote combat outpost .. . oh, wait, he didn't do any of those things. No, but he is a decorated combat warrior, a recipient of two awards that represent our bravest and finest warriors, people who sacrificed themselves physically for our country.

Yep, wear them with pride LT, because all that face time you had with the general who signed off on that garbage finally paid off. When people see your decorations, and ask you what happened, make sure you tell them something horrific. We don't want anyone getting the wrong impression that you might not have actually earned them. After all, the criteria for the newly formed Combat Action Badge clearly state that "the Combat Action Badge provides special recognition to Soldiers who personally engage the enemy, or are engaged by the enemy during combat operations." And you clearly did that, right LT?