Independence Day
By: Brendon
Soot of the burn pits and burning feces barrels rose through the air like black charcoal in the Iraqi haze. The compound within Nasiriyah was hot today, real damn hot, like 126 degrees hot. Anyone whose ever been deployed, knows that the war gods will always put us in the worst place and climate, and then laugh at our daily misery. July 4, 2003. Welcome to the suck.
Preparations were made weeks earlier. We, the poor sops of Golf Company, were given permission to let loose a bit for Independence Day. We were able to procure some goats and quite a bit of shady looking chickens for a barbecue. I had a reputation as being particularly crafty in the culinary department. Mostly, Due to a lack of decent food readily available, one must adapt and overcome. That being said, I was given control of the grills and a freshly dispatched goat. So, my poor dumb ass sat in the middle of these said grills and made some pretty wicked things with that goat, I was proud as the heat stroke set in.
This led straight into the Production. The Production was a three-hour play. But before I go any further, we must go back a month prior to our event. Tempers were flaring on all areas. The grind of daily patrols, the heat, the general lack that anyone really giving a shit about us and no end in sight. Being deployed for 15 of the past 18 months is draining.
Morale was low, a group of our SNCO’s and Officers pulled our company funny guys over and basically said “Make us laugh”. To say the least they felt used and demeaned. I had nothing better to do at the time, so I offered my services as a former Theater Major. We convinced our Command that if they gave us 2 weeks we would put on a show for the whole company “To boost morale”. The three of us put together roughly two hours’ worth of material. 100% pure evil and venom spewed forth on the stage of pure satirical whit. It was our first middle finger to the establishment, to the frustration, to it all. So terrible that our Staff NCO’s were heard, ere they ran out of sight “I want that a-holes rank and I want it tonight”. Hell, the troupe of us were told not to go anywhere near the CP for any reason. But before that night was over the order had come down from our CO and XO not to touch any of us. Thank God, we were pardoned. In fact, we were commissioned to do another show in 2 weeks for July 4th celebration. Which was the Production.
The Production went on without a hitch. 3 ½ hours of pure hate and sarcasm, every Marines favorite emotions. The only difference was the element of surprise was gone, but the impact was felt throughout the performance, in our own way we were celebrating our Independence Day, overseas, in the combat zone. It was bittersweet, the joy and laughter mixed with the stress and homesickness. After the show was over we were able to hang the American Flag and everyone joined in a rendition of the Star Spangled Banner. It was very patriotic.
Somewhere, around 0200, the first ping came through our tin walled building we were quartered in. Then another, and another. It took a few minutes from being roused from my sleep to realize those little pings were bullets and we were, In fact, under attack.
By now they were pinging all over the place. I was getting my gear on and start heading for the the door. As I went into the main sleeping quarters I saw people loading up ammo, Machine guns being brought to the watch towers. I took off towards the door and there’s a jam up. I push forward further into the chaos. A thought rushes my head…why are so many people not doing anything. I continue to push towards the doorway. I look outside into the courtyard and the impacting bullets mirror raindrops as they hit the concrete. “What are you doing Brendon, what the hell are you doing?” Screams in my head. Then my fathers voice in the chaos” You signed up for this, do your job”
And I jump out into the courtyard, it wasn’t graceful but by God, I jumped and ran to the nearest wall. I got there as another Marine took up position next to me. I could hear the bullets hitting the wall in from of us and feel the concrete dust fly up. Gunfire was erupting from various locations around the compound and I could see our sister companies down the road getting hit and returning fire. Tracers scorched the night.
And then silence.
It was over.
A platoon took over the wall detail and I was relieved of my post on the wall. I got down immediately went and got bottles of water and smokes. I met up with the rest of the guys and realized what felt like a 20-30 minutes engagement was in fact 3 hours.
The passage of time during that day was surreal, and as I look back on that day, almost 15 years ago, I realize it seems like yesterday and though I am that many years older now, it is our normal to see the day, feel its heat and endure the memories. Just as they occur in my life again, and again. For this is what PTSD does, it traps those memories forever, puts them in stasis and forces us to relive them day and night, sleep or awake. No matter what, it is a part of us now and we can either greet those memories with hate, or as an old friend here to visit.
