The Day of Adversity

When I started this blog, this is what I was hoping I would never have to write about. Some days, in my more immature moments, I wished that we would get some action that I could write about. People who wish for "action" can learn that it's not as thrilling as Hollywood narratives make it seem.

Up until this point, the worst casualty suffered in our entire Battalion was a guy who was grazed by a bullet, leaving a bruise on his leg. Then one day, Tuesday, May 24th, Bravo Battery lost three men in one instant.

It was like any other day in Baghdad. My platoon, 3rd platoon had been tasked with with gate guard, prolly the most boring, grueling task for the soldiers of FOB Honor. It was my job to search vehicles. It was over a hundred degrees in the shade. My desert camo was dry where uncovered, and soaked completely through with sweat underneath my body armor. I was hating life at that moment.

One of the guys monitoring the radio told us through the walkie-talkies. Oh shit guys, 4th platoon just got hit by a car bomb at the corner of blah blah blah. He said that it was a "three litter urgent." "Litter" means that whatever the injury was, they weren't able to walk on their own. We pressed the soldier on the radio for more information. But of course, they're not going to put specifics, like names, over the net.

Within minutes, an extraction team of humvees line up at the gate to go to the scene. After they left, I heard over the walkie-talkie that they had put out a new command over the net. Shut down all personal communications. All the phone rooms and internet cafes. Why would they order this? It must be serious.

I started to pace back and forth the vehicle search area. One of the other privates working vehicle search with me had become visibly upset. He had trouble talking, and his eyes were getting red. He's only nineteen years old.

I noticed that I couldn't feel the heat anymore.

When our relief, 2nd platoon arrived, I asked one of the soldiers whether he had heard the news. That 4th platoon had been hit, and three guys were hurt. I could tell by the look on his face that he knew more than I did. "They died." he said.

I walked back to the barracks in a daze. As soon as I got into the palace, I saw the younger private who was working vehicle search with me throw his kevlar helmet to the ground and start cursing. It seemed like every body I passed had a glazed look over their face. I saw a sergeant who was twenty-three years old sitting on the cement stairway entrance, silently holding his face in his hands.

Back in the barracks, the men of my platoon acted in a way not too different from any other day when the work was finished and it was time to relax. They had turned to the comforts of their distractions. There was no conversation. Nobody felt like talking. But the air was filled with the noise of DVD players. Minds were transported to another place. There was a new high quality bootleg of Star Wars available from the Iraqi merchants on base. A galaxy far away was surely better than the violent here and now. Most of the guys didn't want to be alone with themselves. Being alone right now would force one to think things over and come to inevitable conclusions. It could have easily been any one of us out there. For some reason, we were spared.

I asked around and got some bad information. A couple guys told me that two completely different soldiers died. I spent a couple hours thinking that someone was dead who wasn't.

I took a shower. When I returned to the barracks, I was told about the actual soldiers who died. I didn't trust the information at first, but then I heard it from enough different people that I supposed that it was safe to assume that I knew who had really died.

I went to eat dinner. On Fox News, they announced that three soldiers had died in Baghdad. When I returned once again to the barracks, a couple of the guys complained that the news of the three mens' death hadn't even been officially put out to the Battery, and they were already reporting it on fucking Fox News.

Finally, they did announce a Battalion meeting for later that evening. But my platoon wouldn't be able to attend. We had been tasked to take 4th platoon's place as gate guard.

Instead of searching vehicles, I was placed as a sentry at the very front of the gate. It was real quiet that night. It was too late for traffic. There was no gunfire in the distance. And as I stood there until three AM, I had plenty of time to think.

I thought about how the danger of this place suddenly became very real. I thought about what it would be like, now that we all knew how dangerous it was. I wondered what the guys would have been saying about me, if it were me who had been killed instead.

But mostly I wondered why I had been spared. In my younger, more foolish days, I would say that God had plans for me. But now I know that that's bullshit. There's no reason why it couldn't have been me. Perhaps it should have been me. Indeed, I am older than all three men who were killed. I don't know why it wasn't my truck that wasn't hit. That night, it seemed like God was asking me that if someone else in Bravo Battery had to die, would you care if it were you? And are you ready to die, tomorrow if need be?

People in America will have a hard time understanding how upsetting something like this is. "Well, you were going to a war zone, what did you expect?" Most people don't have any idea the amount of preparation that our Battalion put into preventing things like this. The six months leading up to deployment were pretty much just solid training for this. We came here knowing that Our Battery didn't lose a single man on the first deployment, during the invasion. When we got to Baghdad, we learned that 2-82 Field Artillery, the unit that had our job before we got here, worked the streets of Baghdad for an entire year without losing anyone.

We wear body armor and drive in humvees so well armored that most times the worst a roadside bomb will do is flatten the tires. But the bomb that the terrorists used this time was a special type of IED called a "platter charge." While a conventional IED will explode in all directions, a platter charge forces the power of the explosion in one direction. It's kinda like a giant shot gun fired at close range. It rendered the armor useless. It instantly killed the two soldiers in the front seat and the soldier in the gunner's hatch. There was a Coalition soldier from our ally, Georgia, in the back seat. He survived. Although he's at least a double amputee or triple amputee now.

We came to Iraq hoping for the best. Our number one priority was for everybody to return to Fort Stewart, GA. I did my best to ignore the pessimist soldiers who said that the first deployment was lucky, we're not all coming home this time. As I said, up until now, our time in Iraq has been unremarkable. I truly believed that we were all going home. And I was beginning to take this idea for granted.

I came to Iraq hoping for the best and not really prepared for the worst. When the worst happened, it took me by surprise. I still don't think I'm prepared for death. For the wiser, or for the more foolish I find I am telling myself that the rest of Bravo Battery will be going home to America and that the incident on May 24th was extraordinary luck on the part of the terrorists. I don't know what will happen to me or the rest of the Battery if we lose more people. I might still be unprepared. Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be.

"In the day of prosperity be happy, but in the day of adversity consider, God has made one as well as the other so that man may not discover anything that will be after him."
Ecclesiastes 7:14