bittersweet symphony

It's hard to tell but I have some measure of respect for anyone that puts on a uniform and goes to work. Whether it's a firefighter, corrections officer or a soldier. The pay sucks, the hours are even worse but there's something that drives them to show up day after day. Yeah, there's a draw to a salary pay instead of hourly, the benefits are pretty good, and steady work. I don't know one soldier that joined up to 'defend the Constitution' or any of that crap. Sure they might say it but that's because it sounds less selfish than 'for the college money.' Or that 'I was in a crappy situation and needed to get out of it so...' excuse. For whatever their reasons, they're brought together to form the US fighting force.

When I enlisted almost 7 years ago (whoa, that's a long time) I took an oath. It went something like this:

"I, _____, do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God."

Even me, the troublemaker, took this oath seriously. In my military career I have never disobeyed a lawful order. I admit that I stretched the boundaries of some orders, made my own interpretations of others, but I always, always accomplished the task. In doing so, I exercised my First Amendment right to bitch about it, before, during and after the task was completed.

So what's spurring me to write about all of this? Well, I read this article about Lt. Watada, the first Army officer to publicly refuse to deploy to Iraq. Now, I don't agree with war and I certainly don't want to go back to Iraq with a huge bullseye painted on my chest, but if I receive orders to go again, I will. And I'll bitch about it too. Loudly, but I'd go. Why? Not because I believe I'm defending the Constitution. One of the reasons I do is because it is an order given from the Commander-in-Chief. I may think that it's an unlawful order (which I don't) but that's not for me to decide. There is a system in place to determine that and so far it hasn't said anything to the contrary. So I go because if I don't, someone else will have to in my place. My friends are my family, if (God forbid) one were to be injured or killed I'd second-guess my decision to stay behind. I'll keep wondering if there was something that I could've done. If things would've been different if I was there. Maybe not, but it's that uncertainity that'll gnaw at me for the rest of my life.

After our first up-close encounter with an IED in September 2003, three friends were wounded. One was my platoon sergeant that had taken my position in the convoy at the last minute. I was supposed to be driving the trail vehicle, but instead I was driving the middle one with another company commander. He was a combat arms officer, used to the discipline of a line unit whereas we were a bunch of REMFs (rear echelon motherf***ers). I could laugh at my first sergeant and call him a doofus to his face, and he laughed but in a line unit I probably would've gotten my ass kicked to the point where I'd need a full face transplant. So riding around with him for the next ten hours was not going to be fun. Anyway, my point was that after that I volunteered for convoy duty, along that same route, travelling one of the most heavily populated IED routes twice a day three or four times each week. Sounds like suicide right? Or at least a feeble attempt at suicide made to look like a homicide. I don't know, I have sort of a biased point of view. What I can tell is that I did it because I didn't want one of my friends out there instead to leave me back at camp to worry and that maybe, just maybe, if I was out there that I could make a difference. Save a life. I'm a chronic worrier though, and I started to wonder if the person that I replaced would make better decisions than me. It was a vicious cycle.
I remember joking with my platoon sergeant, I don't think I showed too much of what I was really feeling (FREAKED OUT!) while it was going on. After the wounded were evac'd, our brigade chaplain was out there and I walked up to him and just brokedown, crying for a few minutes. Afterwards I sucked it back up for the duration we were out there. Then on the drive back I was so panicked and I kept thinking "Holy crap! I'm driving too fast, I can't tell if there's any more IEDs out there." And I looked down at my speedometer, it read 10mph, and I noticed that my knuckles were white and my hands were visibly shaking. When were outside awaiting news about our wounded, some of us were smoking, and I couldn't keep my cigarette lit because I kept shaking the cherry free. I think it took me like 20 minutes to smoke one.

I've gotten a little off-topic. The point is, I'd rather be Iraq where I might be able to make a difference than back here where I know I can't make one. I have a legitimate reason to get out of deployments with no consequences. Yet I choose to be deployable, just like I chose to join the Army. Maybe it's not the smartest idea, but I'm not known for smart ideas.