Words from the Front

Yesterday I finally came face to face with an IED. The soldiers…no men of Delta Company 1-184, and Rogue platoon recognized the threat. As we passed by the device, the driver became hyper aware, he saw what most of us did not, a glint of metal amongst the trash strewn road. As we passed by it, it lay there barely visible, yet it was the only thing I could see, it became what could have been our end. Life does not flash before your eyes when you come face to face with mortality, but a resignation that this could be the last moment, then sadness.

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When the signal came; "FIRE IN THE HOLE, FIRE IN THE HOLE, FIRE IN THE HOLE!!!" The explosion was far louder than I anticipated, thunderous is not an accurate enough word, it was louder than anything I have heard since I have been in Iraq.

We were less than a football field away from it, and windows broke, dishes fell, and a child that was in the house that I was not aware of began to cry. Slowly I picked myself up from the floor and again we went to the roof. The silence there was surpassed only by the ringing in my ears, as we got back into position slowly the people began to reemerge from around corners, from behind cars, and from locked doors. As the moments passed us by, it became evident that we would not be attacked; our mood became no less tense. Finally after being there for several hours, we were given the all clear, and we once again descended the stairs of the Iraqi home. As we came down, I was struck at just how ordinary the home was. Pictures on the walls, fine china (albeit cracked and dusty) was stacked on shelves. Coffee cups on the kitchen counter. A throw, hung on the back of a couch. The smell of cooking clung in the air, and the people in the home who let us in, looked ordinary, scared but ordinary nonetheless.



The man in the house was holding his daughter Mina, a beautiful little girl who for some reason smiled at the two soldiers standing before her. I took off my helmet and goggles, and smiled back at her. Again, I was reminded why I am here. And again that reminder came in the form of a smile from a child. We exchanged thanks back and forth, and shook hands, the women in the house (his mother and wife) smiled at us the man of the house said "Assalamu alaikum." As we put our kit back on I clasped hands with him and patted him on the shoulder "Walaikum assalam." (Peace be upon you too) I patted my partner in the helmet, and staggered we moved to the gate. "Friendly coming out!" We shouted, and rejoined our patrol. As we rolled out, I was looking at the spot where the IED had been. The metal, contorted and charred a shadow of what it once had been, a reminder to me to what could have been. Shaking it off, I drank cold water, and drank and drank and drank.



They thanked us…

The power of words…

My friends you are very welcome…