LIVE FROM WAR VII: The Business of Dying

LFW Pt I
LFW Pt II
LFW Pt III
LFW Pt IV
LFW Pt V
LFW Pt VI

So these things are called diaries, right? Being as such, I felt like writing a traditional diary.  No analysis.  No statistics, no breaking stories. Just a description of what is going on with me, right now. You probably don’t care. But I need to get some things out.

Yesterday was Memorial Day. I reposted a diary I wrote a month ago about the occasion I was selected to be a pallbearer for a fallen Soldier.  I ended up rereading the diary as well. It was depressing. It probably wasn’t a good idea to reread it.  Ever since those three guys got kidnapped in Iraq, I’ve been having a hard time with things. Our Democrats in Congress haven’t made it any better, with the exception of a few.

Side note:  Patrick Murphy is one of the few.  You guys probably know him as Rep. Murphy (PA-08).  But in my mind he is Captain Murphy because every face to face conversation I have ever had about him, that is how he is referred to.  I have emailed his office a couple of times and I always inadvertently type "CPT Mur..", then realize what I am doing and backspace over it. He voted against the bill that was milk when we wanted vodka.  He is my hero for the moment.  I consider him sort of a coworker once removed.  I used to work in the same office he used to work in, although I worked there after he had left.  A lot of my friends know him still.  There are pictures of them on his website. Anyway...

Those guys got kidnapped and that was a shitty day for me.  I wrote thisdiary that day. I’d been dealing pretty well up until then, in spite of everything.  In spite of losing a guy in our unit. In spite of being extended and knowing I’ll miss the first 15 months of daughter’s life (which I wrote about here). But that day changed everything.

The two Soldiers who they have yet to find are probably being tortured as we speak, if they are not dead.  And why?  You may disagree, but I consider the war here to be just.  But we have been here nearly six years.  If America had not been bait-and-switched into Iraq, would we still need to be here?  Guys from my unit have been sent home with injuries that will take months or even years to recover from.  We’ve lost one guy. Again, why?  Could we have been done here by now? I think so.  

Ever since the day those guys went missing, things get worse.  Everyday here is like the movie "Groundhog Day".  That’s kind of a coincidence, being that the daughter I am missing was born on Groundhog Day.  Everyday the same routine.  There are no days off. There used to be a break in the monotony when we got mortared or rocketed.  But the fear of those things has passed.  Now instead of running to the bunker, I just continue to sit in my bed and waste time on dkos or myspace, as if nothing happened.

The fucking tragedy is the worst monotonous event that happens nearly every day: reading the headlines from Iraq.  When the days run together, it gets hard to remember if the five guys that died today are the same headline still up from yesterday.  Or was that seven guys that died yesterday? No, it was five yesterday, seven the day before that, and five more today.  They are all dead over deceit.  Honorable men and women who meet their grave because certain powerful individuals want to save face.

I suppose I shouldn’t complain.  I have it better than a lot of people.  I still have my arms, legs and eye site.  I have yet to be shot it (unless you count the mortars and rockets).  I will see my daughter, eventually.  I’m alive.  I remember that blessing when I look at the KIA reports daily to see if anyone I know is on them.  I realized a startling fact a few days ago.  In four years of military service in four different units I’ve come into contact with so many different people, had my life touched by so many other Soldiers that it would be impossible to recognize a single name on that list, unless they were really close to me.  People pass in and out of your life so fast in this business. Pass in and out of their own lives too quickly as well.

 I complained to one of my NCOs once that they were charging me too much for life insurance, and I wanted to know how to decrease my coverage.  The NCO asked me why I would want that.  I told him I didn’t plan on dying any time soon.  He told me something I’ll never forget. He said to me:

" Son, you’re in the business of dyin’ "