UPDATED AND CLARIFIED I want to kill the enemy. (LIVE FROM WAR)

UPDATE:

O.k. I was asked to clarify some things, and other things I will clarify even though I wasn't asked.

1. I'm not in Iraq.

2. Regarding not wanting to go to Iraq: Imagine the internal conflift knowing you have to participate in something you know is wrong in order to protect those you love.

3. I'm not a troll. I'm a proud member of the 12% of active duty military members who consider themselves liberal. I come here to vent because I am surrounded by the other 82%.  I mentioned the concept being foreign to many on the left (as I am) because I have several times seen here criticism of soldiers on the ground doing what it take to survive, and by that I do not mean killing innocents. Killing innocents is categorically wrong.

4. This is not meant to glorify killing. I don't want kill indiscriminately.  The diary was mean to illustrate that regardless of the motives behind a war, the only thing that matters to the Soldier on the ground is his/her own survival, and the survival of those around him/her.  I can positively say that I would never kill anyone who I was not 100% sure was actively trying to kill me, my brothers, or an innocent civilian.  Until you've been in close quarters with someone who you are unsure if they are enemy or not when they reach into their coat for something and you don't know if it is a weapon or not, yet you refrain from reaching for your weapon unsure of what is about to happen, don't judge me. Because I've been there.

Let me start by saying this is my first diary, so I hope I get the format right.  I’m in the military and currently deployed in support of the Global War on Terrorism.  For security reasons, I won’t say where (some here already know, and it isn’t that hard to figure out). For the same reasons, names are changed and a lot of details are vague. Sorry, but it should be pretty easy to understand anyway.  I realize this is an open forum, but before you start criticizing anything you don’t like, realize that because of security concerns, if anything contained herein was actually an inappropriate action, I wouldn’t write about because a) it would be forbidden, and b) that’s not the kind of person I am.  This isn’t and is not meant to be a political diary.  I just wanted to vent, and maybe provide some insight.  

This is my first deployment. I was sent to a unit previously that I was told was going to deploy, so I volunteered to stay for an extra year to "get in the fight".  The unit ended up not going, so I just sat around for a couple years doing my job in garrison.  The "get in the fight" logic is hard for some without military experience to understand, especially those who fall to the left.  

For me, it isn’t about politics, the current administration, or whether the war is right or wrong (however, I do have my opinions on those things).  The fact is I have friends closer to me than family who are out there.  They are working 22+ hours a day.  They are going weeks on end without showers or a warm meal.  They are driving down alleys and highways laced with Improvised Explosive Devices (IEDs), with nothing but good luck and a prayer between life and death. They are walking through cities, not knowing who wants them dead, who wants them there and who just wants peace no matter what the means are to that end.

Since the day I entered the service I wanted to be there with them.  I want to kill the enemy. I don’t want to kill anyone who is innocent. I only want to kill someone who I know has taken up arms against the U.S. military.  I don’t care if he is a terrorist. I don’t care if he trying to defend his home or his farm. I don’t care why he is the enemy. I only care that he is the enemy. I care and I want to kill him because he is trying to kill me. More important than him trying to kill me, I want to kill him because he is trying to kill my brothers.  If I can kill him, he will not be able to kill my brother.

So anyway, I finally got my chance and I am here.  We have guys forward. It has been in the news. I’m sure you’ve seen it. I’ve done work that you have quite possibly read about; only someone else took credit for it.  But that is a diary for when I become a civilian.  Because of the work I do, I am not outside the wire on the mission.  I’m kept on a short leash because, while I want to get in the fight, I’m told that no one else can do what I do, so I have to stay here.

Last night some of our forward guys made contact with the enemy.  Two of our Soldiers were injured, and an interpreter was killed.  One Soldier is in the hospital; another, "Joe" is on his way back to the states.  Being that this is my first deployment, I’ve never experienced anything like this.  Hearing that a brother is hurt.  Having a legitimate curiosity and concern as to whether a brother has all his arms, legs and eye sight.  It’s not a good feeling.

Tonight one of their leaders, "Jimmy", came back with their personal effects.  As I walked through out headquarters, I heard that Jimmy had arrived.  Jimmy has also been in the fight.  He shot an escaping detainee.  He didn’t aim a fatal shot, just to disable.  The guys, including Jimmy, on scene took first aid measures and called for medical support.  

Anyway, Jimmy was here, with the personal effects.  In the headquarters I heard someone say, "Is this Jimmy’s gear", referring to a pile of standard issue gear on the floor. It was noted that it was, in fact Jimmy’s gear, along with the personal effects.  I heard all this on my way out.  The gear was by the door.  I saw it.  I saw Jimmy’s body armor. It had a large stain on it.  I stopped to determine what it was. Not mud from the field.  Maybe residue from a smoke grenade?  No, it was blood. Human blood.  I assumed it was the blood of the detainee. He had applied first aid to.

The longer I looked, this seemed strange.  First, because I’ve never seen human blood on something in that manner.  Second, because it didn’t look like it had smeared off of someone else.  It came from the top of the neck portion of the body army, looking like it had poured from that point.  I broke my concentration from this body army to look at the rest of the gear.  I saw another set of body army.  This one had Jimmy’s name on it.  The other body armor hadn’t had a name, but it was obvious now that it wasn’t Jimmy’s.  Then I remembered: Joe was reported to have a head injury.  This was not the blood of the enemy.  This was the blood of my brother.  One of my own.

I stood mesmerized for a good two to three minutes.  This was my first encounter with something this.  I hope you never have to experience this.  I hope I never have to again. I hope I never have to experience it for someone worse off than Joe. Someone who doesn’t get to go back to a hospital when they go to the states. I don’t want to go to one of those ceremonies I’ve heard so much about, but luckily have never had to go to.  At the memorial service, the soldiers gear is up front.  His boots, with his weapon. His dog tags and helmet hanging over it. The chaplain says a few words, and then a roll call is read.  Soldiers answer when their name is called.  Then the roll call comes to the casualty.  The name is read. No one answers. The name is read again. No one answers. A last time it is called, and no one answers. I am grateful I’ve never been to one of these.  I also feel guilty, for, until now, not being here to defend my brothers.

I was upset.  I was sad. I was worried, wondering if Joe was okay. Fuck, that was a lot of blood. I was angry.  I was angry at the fucking cowards who didn’t stay to fight after they hurt Joe.  I was angry at the enemy.  I want to kill the enemy.

Tomorrow, I’ll go back to work.  I’ll do my job, inside the wire.  I’ll go outside as part of my job occasionally, and then come right back again, because, right now, that is my job.  Maybe they’ll let me off my leash for the next mission.  Maybe I can go out and help defend my brothers.  Maybe, I’ll kill the enemy.