08 June 2011

My many colored days

A bad day in a combat zone looks a lot different than a bad day in the office. Make no mistake about it - I am going to war. And so are the 31 other guys who are here with me right now. And yesterday the war hit a little too close to home.

I hang out with the gunners here. Gunners are the guys who spend a majority of their time hanging out of the top of the truck with large (crew serve) weapons waiting to "put iron on target" (which is the military term for blowing crap up). They have absolutely the most important job there is to have when it comes to keeping people on convoys safe. And it takes a special person to be a gunner. Maybe an especially crazy person...but surely one with less fear than the average human being. But also someone with a heart of gold who will do anything to protect the good guys.

Johnny Cash is absolutely that guy. So is Juicebox. So is 7-11. One of those three is going to Afghanistan to be a gunner. And yesterday the guy he is replacing down there was shot and killed by a sniper. And of course he knew the guy.

And that's where the war gets personal to me...again. Maybe I haven't talked about my job at home...I am the person who is responsible for re-icing the bodies of all of the American service members who are killed in Iraq and Afghanistan. And to me and my team at Ramstein, those are fallen, faceless heroes. The only way to do my home station job is to never connect the transfer cases we re-ice with the people who have been killed and the families who are suffering. Instead, I focus on how important it is for us to do our job so that those families can see their loved one for the last time.

Just by chance I happened to watch yesterday as Johnny Cash opened the email telling him that he was going to Afghanistan much earlier than he expected. I watched his eyes glass over and the look on his face.

He didn't want to talk about it...I didn't press the issue. He was obviously shocked by the whole situation, so I just let him be. And today he told me more details. And he's still acting like it's completely fine. And maybe he is. But I wouldn't be. And in fact I'm not fine, knowing that one of my guys from here is going to that same place, doing that same dangerous job, and that something could happen to him.

But the real thing I struggled with was what to say to console someone who just received that kind of news. I can't say "you're going to be fine" because it's a combat zone. He may well not be fine. I can't say "I understand" because I don't.

So I settled for "I'll always be around if you want to talk." And I left it at that. And he did talk. Some.

And while I wait for him to keep talking, I'll be looking for the perfect good luck charm to keep my three favorite gunners safe. And I'll be thankful that there are kids out there, and literally two of these guys are just kids, who are willing to put their lives on the line to support and defend freedom. That's a pretty big deal.

But here's the thing that will floor you...the fact that Johnny Cash can look directly into my eyes and say "if I'm going to die, I want to be killed fighting for my country." And he's the reason I'll wear an American flag on the inside of my body armor. Because I think we could all be just a little more like Johnny Cash.

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