A Utah soldier writes home with his thoughts on the war
As we all know, today is the third anniversary from the greatest attack on the United States in history. I'm sure all of you remember exactly what you were doing the moment you heard of the attacks, whether you were at work, at school, maybe you were even at home.
No matter where you were, the emotions that hit you the moment you found out were probably strong. I remember sitting in sports-marketing class, hearing of it from somebody who had heard it on the radio on the way to school, and moments later the whole class was watching the television. I remember feeling confused, more like shocked, as I watched the first tower burn. But I remember the horror I felt as I watched the second plane hit the building on live television.
In the days after, I remember my feelings turning to pain and sorrow, for the families who had lost their loved ones, but more for the families who didn't know whether or not their loved one was alive or not. Can you imagine the torment the family must have felt? Can you imagine trying to sleep at night, thinking that the ones you hold dearest were trapped under tons and tons of rubble?
Not two months after Sept. 11, I signed my contract with the military. It was right after my 17th birthday. For a while after the tragedy, I was angry and honestly wanted to kill whoever was responsible for these acts, but the feeling of anger shortly turned into the feeling of obligation, of duty. There are times when I am over here, and I am having a weak moment, that I think, "Why am I here? What good are we doing?" I can think of many reasons why, but none of them are as strong as the painful reminder of this day.
Being here obviously has made me grow in many ways. Mentally I am more aware of my surroundings, more alert and, most importantly, mentally stronger. I can think faster, more clearly and in the middle of the most stressful environment you can imagine. It has made me grow physically, going 40 hours straight patrolling Baghdad without sleep, going 36 hours without eating, enduring the 110-plus degree temperatures for three months straight.
It has made me grow emotionally, as I have witnessed things that I never want to see again and, more, that I never want anyone else to have to endure either. I have seen my buddy get shot, I have seen another get his legs blown completely off, and I have seen yet another pay the ultimate price.
I have been pushed to the limits, to the point where I thought I was breaking, have seen the sunset and then come up again to do it all over. I have grown spiritually, growing strong in the faith that God will deliver me out of this place, if I do my part. I've been in situations where I didn't think I was going to live through it, and been amazed and humbled when I did. I have seen things that aren't feasible by man, like a humvee blow up into tiny pieces and have the men inside walk way without a scratch. I have driven over a buried land mine five times without knowing it, just to watch it go off on a car behind me. I have been untouched after a hidden explosive goes off 25 feet away, killing Iraqi citizens that were driving in their cars, more than 250 feet away.
I will never be able to describe the unity that you build with those when you are forced to put your own life in their hands. I remember saying about a couple friends that I could trust them with my life; now I know the true meaning. The safety of the men around you becomes more important than your own safety, and it goes for every soldier to the left and right of you.
As cruel as the environment can be here, I have grown to love the people of Iraq. My Arabic isn't the best, but can communicate with them on a basic level. I would say that 98 percent of them are friendly, the other 2 percent don't show any emotion. The children here are the best part, always smiling, asking for chocolate from us. We try to keep some candy in the truck to throw out at them as we drive through their neighborhoods.
Never have I seen more happy children than in the poverty of Iraq. Most of the adults do not acknowledge us, but if we wave, most of them will wave back.
The weather here is finally starting to cool down during the night and the early morning. I remember not too long ago when it was over 100 degrees by 9 a.m. Now it isn't until about 11 a.m. -- yeah, small difference, but huge to us. I am waiting for the day that it doesn't hit 100 degrees at all during the day. The sunsets here are beautiful, and when you watch one or two, you remember how beautiful the world really is, if you stay optimistic about everything.
I wouldn't have changed this experience for the world. There is no other way that I could have grown in so many different ways than to come here. I wish I could say that all soldiers feel like this, but it would be a lie. I know soldiers who are completely bitter about the whole "package" here, from hatred toward the people to hatred toward the military. When I talk to them, I feel really bad that they can see things so bad, instead of trying to look at the good things. Basically, going to war is a good test of character. It may build it a little, but it reveals it a lot more. Just like most trials in our life.
So as you go throughout your classes, throughout your busy days filled with term papers, homework and making it to work on time, remember that there are over 100,000 soldiers who would take your place in a heartbeat.
Next time you take a shower, remember that there are that many soldiers who probably wont be able to take a shower that day or the next because of water shortages here. Next time you sit down and eat at a nice restaurant, remember the soldier who eats an MRE. It kind of puts things into perspective a little. The best thing about being a soldier is you see what it's like firsthand not to have any freedoms, and then you realize how much you take for granted. And the ironic thing is, we'd do it all again for you guys.
Thanks to everyone for the prayers, for the thoughts, for the care packages and for the e-mails. It has made it that much easier to bear the burdens of being so far away from home. I hope and pray that you are living life to the fullest, enjoying every single day the most you can.
I love you guys and hope to hear from you soon!
Love,
Josh
Galer is a Specialist e-4, 1st Calvary Division out of Fort Hood, Texas. He is stationed in Baghdad with the 458th Engineer Brigade.
standard.net |
