A Different Thanksgiving

Turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, noodles, corn, those little naked shrimp with their red sauce, ham, salad, pumpkin pie, served up on a Styrofoam plate with plastic fork and spoon.
That was thanksgiving last year. Back to work and while the food was good, it was missing a crucial ingredient. Family.
This year, I am home and I am definitely will enjoy the meal a lot better. Good company, a quiet neighborhood and I don't have to go to work!
I have always enjoyed thanksgiving. This year I will add one more ingredient. Contentment. Content to be around my children, my wife. To be home. To be together. The missing ingredient.

God Bless those still in theater this thanksgiving day.

Veterans Day

The school history department took (practically the whole school) their students to see Flags Of Our Fathers as part of a lesson on Veterans Day. Since the students know I was a veteran their teachers asked me to come along and help chaperon.
At first I wasnt' sure I wanted to go. I mean, why go watch a war movie? But they talked me into it and so I went. I am glad I did. Not for the movie, but the way the students were.
There were not problems. They were very well behaved, and it seemed to me, very attentive to the movie.
I heard giggles in the funny parts, gasps at the bad parts, comments about the racial slurs toward one of the soldiers and sniffles at the sad parts. Some said they enjoyed it, some said they didn't understand the plot (a lot of back and forth scenes).
We had discussed in my anatomy class some stress indicators to look for and a couple students remarked that they did notice how it was portrayed in the movie. All in all a good trip.
And then on the bus home they started asking me questions. What was it like? What did you do? And I answered them, in a way. I told them about what I did as we rolled outside the wire. about getting ready, all the things we did.
I really think veterans need to visit these young people and tell them what they experienced. I think they really want to know. They really pay attention when I talk to them about this.
I now that veterans are known not to talk about their experiences. I think that is not a good idea. No matter how hard the experience is, I think generations now want to know. We are at war and these very young hearts want to know all about it.
They watch youtube videos. The boys go all right, the girls go ohh gross , but they really, really, want to know.
So if your are a veteran, and are reading this. Go visit a high school. Ask to drop in someday and talk about your experience. You don't need to give an explaination for/against the war (only adults ask me that), just talk about what you did.
Lastly, I think about my three uncles who went to WWII. I know very little about what they did. I would really like to have known. They would never talk. And I wouldn't ask.
The next time a young person asks you, "Daddy what did you do in the war?" or "Sir, what did you do?" Sit down and tell them. Keep your history alive.

Two Years Ago

This coming Friday will mark the day I left the school I teach at to report for mobilization. It is amazing that two years have passed since that Friday in November 2004. Let's take a look back...
It was September and I had been working down in our little pasture fixing fence (my daughter's horse likes to knock it down) and doing little "farm chores". As I came into the house my wife tells me that there is a message on the machine from a Colonel somebody. Well, the qoosebumps quickly went marching on my spine. Colonel's don't call sargents to pass the time of day.
As I hung up the phone, I quietly told my wife "I am going to Iraq".
The days went by and the DAY got closer and closer. I went to my supervisor and told them where I was going. I told my church family. I told my mom and dad.
And then the day came, the kids at school gave me surprise party, some parting gifts and we all took loads of photos.
And then I was gone.
People today ask me, "What was it like?" and say, have you seen the movie Groundhog Day?
And they nod yes and then I say that is what it was like.
And just like my father's generation, I pass on the questions and talk about something else.
My students today say "I am so bored!" and I respond, that is good! You want to be bored. Boring is very good!
I know what they mean. Actually what they don't know, is that they are discontented with things right now (or in teenage talk RIGHT NOW!).
I have really learned to be content. Now. Not in the future. Now.
I was blessed. I came home with everything attached. No scars, no missing fingers, toes, arms, legs.
I am thankful.
I don't have to dream of firefights and bodies.
I am thankful.
I didn't have it as rough as others did over there.
But it wasn't easy either.
Two years ago I left to go to war.
My, how time flies.

Five years has come and gone. It was, then, a normal school day, teaching anatomy, when a student who had gone to her locker on a pass returned and said "Turn on the t.v.!"
At that time we had cable in our rooms due to Channel 1 and what we saw just stunned us. We saw the towers burning, and then we saw them fall. We just sat there, wondering what had happened.
Little did we know, at that moment who was there. One man was there, and this post is about him.
Captain Frederick Ill, Jr. was in those buildings, doing his job. The job he choose to do, to save life, not to take it.
Captain Ill was the personification of a New York firefighter; father, husband, solder, son, a person who, just like myself, went to work on that beautiful clear day in September. Only he didn't go home.
Captain Ill, didn't ask to become a hero, he just became one. By his deeds, his selfless service to others. His desire to help others who needed it.
To be brave is to do what is terrifying and scary and still doing it.
Once, I read the head stone of another captain, one who gave his life for his country. At that time, I was older than he was when he died. That young captain died in 1863. One day, another young man will look at Captain Ill's photograph hanging in the hallway of his firehouse and wonder about him. Wonder about that long ago war that started in his city. Wonder what his life will be and wonder if he can live up to Frederick's standard.
Selfless service.
Duty
Honor
Courage

Today's post is dedicated to Captain Frederick Ill Jr. A member of the FDNY.

You can read more about Capt. Ill at the following web site:
http://www.nycfire.net/node/26

After the fourth

Well, the fourth is over and what a fourth it was.
My favorite one liner is this, "Does Britain have a fourth of July?" and the questionee always (nearly) answers no, then I ask what happened to it? Ha! This usually earns groans, but it is funny how it seems to work all the time.
I suspect that Americans think that the 4th is just an American day because of the holiday and this tells us a lot about U.S.
In recent times there has been a lot of talk and writing about patriotism in this country. To some extremists, it is a dirty word, to some others it doesn't exists, but to most of us it is there. A heart felt love of country, of the ideals it stands for, the "spirit" of the nation so to speak.
It is quite evident when riding in the parade as part of our church's float, and seeing the very many, many people standing out in the pouring rain to watch.
The evidence is there at the fairgounds, again in the rain, as thousands watch the firework spectacular.
The more serious evidence is there; the Army meeting its enlistment goals, again. Entire companies re-enlisting all at once.
The people, everywhere working to make their community a better place. Not for personal gain or a memorial, just to pass something better on.
It is evident in the lack of dusty gravel roads that I used to travel on in the country. They are not (not quite all) paved and dust free.
That I have internet and can write what I want.
That I go to church and not worry about bombers.
That I can watch the same news story and get different perspectives on the same thing.
That as one sage remarked, "We may have political partianship, but we are not polarized".

I like the fourth of July.

Memorial Day

Tomorrow is Memorial Day. And it is no longer just like any other Memorial Day.
Once, while watching the parade of veterans down the street, I thought that wouldn't it be nice that one day there would be no veterans of wars marching down the street? That the men and women in the parades served, but never saw?
Unfortunately, that isn't likely to be the case. This Memorial day there will be new graves to decorate, and the cause of death will not be only old age, but combat.
Back in October, I wrote about Jeremy Hodge. All of twenty years of age, whose grave will be decorated this day by family,friends, comrades and strangers. Another name in the roll call. Another man who is twenty forever.
A&E broadcast a documentary about the Ohio Marine unit, L (Lima) Company from Columbus. Watch it and then remember the men on Memorial Day.

I met a WWII veteran the other day. He had no clue about Iraq. His experiences of that war clouded his knowledge of this one. All he could say is that we are in another Vietnam. This gets so tiring. We are not in another Vietnam. The enemy over there are not communists intent on combining two fractured countries. There is no Hanoi, no Ho Chi Min trail.
There just isn't a comparision. This is a different war. Very different.

But one thing is still the same.

Soldiers die.

Five Months Later

Well....I have been back for five months now. January, Febuary, March, April and now May. And the transition to civillian live has been...well...different than I thought.
In Baghdad we were briefed on what to expect when we came back home. Now that I am here, I can see the briefers knew what they were talking about.
Today someone asked me about "over there" and it was hard to answer and after fumbling around awhile the answer was...well you'd just have to be there.
You can't understand unless you were there is the quote from an article I came across, http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/05/13/AR2006051301312.html
A long article, but a good read.
The spring this year is very beautiful here in Ohio. The green is greener, the flowers seem to have bloomed more than ever and the sky seems so blue than ever before. A reaction to being home? I dunno. People have remarked that this is the best spring they have seen. I do know one thing, it beats dry, blast furnance air, dust storms and constant brown landscape.
Today it rained, just like yesterday and the day before. In Iraq the place would be flooded with so much rain. And the mud! It is very nice to walk across the yard and not have ten pounds of mud on your feet.
I went running one day and notice I didn't hear gunfire, explosions or helicopters flying over head.
One change from one year ago---the constant quiet I hear now.

I am fortunate. I came home whole. I don't wake up at night with sights that no human should see. I have stopped jumping at sudden noises (well mostly) and maybe in a while I will be able to ride in a car like a normal person.
It is so nice to be home.
Again. Thanks to all those who wrote to me, prayed for me and thought of me and the guys in the platoon. We came home and I think that you had something to do with that.
Until next time, see ya!