01/26/2020
How life changes when in a war zone. This one is a long post.
I debated long and hard on posting this. I had an hour and a half drive today so I could go over points in my head. But, I think it’s a good testament to life that I’ve lived.
NORMAL:
Regardless of where you are at in the world. Your definition of “normal” will change when you’re sent into war. Normal for Americans is going to Walmart and the grocery store. Normal for a war zone may be living on MRE’s for a week because it’s too hot to drop actual food. Normal is waking up to sirens alerting you to incoming IDF (indirect fire, mortars, rockets etc.), and wondering if it is worth it to get out of bed to head to the bunker. Normal is comforting a father who’s kid was just blown to pieces. Normal is watching a living being running at you wanting to hurt you, then seeing the lifeless co**se left behind after a twitch of your finger. Normal is your friends having breakfast with you, then never seeing them alive. Normal is carrying a rifle or pistol everywhere. I mean EVERYWHERE.
It’s not that we don’t realize that what we went through isn’t “normal” by Americans standards. We totally get that. It’s OUR normal. This is what we go through. This is how we live. This IS our normal. THIS is where we FEEL normal. Rotating back home, you feel lost. You feel like your missing an appendage because that rifle isn’t part of your person anymore. You feel lost.
FAMILY:
This term denotes a much broader spectrum to those deployed verses the normal Americans. Those in your unit, team, squad whatever nomenclature you choose are closer than blood relatives.
I get it. You are REALLY close to your family and family means everything. The difference is, to us, family will kill or die for you.
I may have to pick up pieces of my “family”. A feeling you’ll never know at that Sunday dinner. I may be a different color, may speak a completely different language or have a different religion, if you’re next to me on that line fighting, we are fu***ng family.
Has your family ever sacrificed their life for you as you watched them killed? Mine has.
I never use the term “Brother” loosely. To me it is a term of status. You have to earn the right to be called my Brother. (Or sister).
PURPOSE:
This one always gets me. Before I started going overseas, I was just sort of floating through life like a lot of America. You get up, work a job, raise a family and hope to live a long time.
The difference now is, I came back with drive. I came back and my boys both know how lucky we have it in our country. How we can go to the store whenever we want. We can throw a party in the summer and not worry about Guerrillas coming into our village and killing everyone.
My boys also realize the freedoms we have come at a cost. The blood of Americans. Ever since the start of our country, the freedoms we love so much came from the blood of those who loved their fellow man enough to lay down their lives for others, without hesitation.
I truly believe my purpose for my life to be of service to my fellow man, my country and my family. My values have always been of kindness and helping others. However, never mistake my kindness for weakness, or the lack of being violent when necessary.
CLOSING:
Just remember one thing. For those deploying, where ever you’re going, stay low, stay vigilant. No matter how hard you try, your life will NEVER be the same and that’s ok. Life goes on and you CAN return to the same person and emotions you had pre-deployment. It just takes work. NEVER give up. Ask for help when you need it. Please, my phone is ALWAYS on. ALWAYS.
To the family members at home. Please realize, when your soldier, airman, marine or sailor comes home, they will NOT be the same person that left. You both will need patience for that adjustment period. They have seen things they won’t want to talk about. Not because they don’t want you to know, because in our twisted, fu**ed up way we feel we are protecting you from what we saw. We feel like you may judge us for what we’ve been through. Yeah, we CAN talk to our buddies about it. Don’t get angry, THEY were there. We love you enough to NOT tell you.
I know this post was long. Learn from my mistakes. My wife said it took me almost 3 years to get back to “Normal” after my last run overseas. Take it with a grain of salt. Everyone is different.
