Category: Reflect

I was drawn to it, called even. That confrontation of flesh and steel. I remember clearly thinking I would not make it home. But then I did. The fog dulled the sting for some time. Too many times, hard drink made the fog thicker. Eventually the sun came out, warming my face and heart. But…

He was just a boy, but somehow also a man. The light in his eyes would burn low when he became old, at the age of twenty-one. He had run to the sound of the guns. The drums of war lured him like the Siren’s song. Strangely he made peace with the thought of a…

A lot of guys won’t let themselves cry after the war, unless alcohol opens the valve. They are afraid once they start crying, they may never stop. Even more so if he was a leader. While over there he had to appear steady, calm, and strong; so that the young guys would likewise be able…

When embers burn lowAnd hard drink makes him softThe words tumble outHe no longer seems lost Pen captures feelingWhen the story’s unclearThe woods bring quietThis darkness, no fear Such contrast, the worldBack where he livesAnd the war, back thenWhere this saga begins The boy and old manIn the blink of an eyeWhile other boys layIn…

There is no glory in the mud, the blood, or the hate Glory only comes after the gritty, hard work has been done Some of the glory attached to those who came home… …is derived from those who did not. It’s not very glorious

Boy soldier I wanted to be in the military as long as I can remember. It was my boyhood dream. All of the old men in my rural community seemed to have served during WWII and though I was never told so, I seemed to pick up the belief that every able-bodied man had an…

The Boys of Kilo It’s a curious thing when the boys of Kilo assemble. The expressions of love and the way they embrace in near violent form, arrest the attention of onlookers.They wrestle and roar like young lions, but the gray is clearly visible in their wild, unkempt manes. Their leathery tattooed skin harkens to…

Kilo memorial Below is a speech I gave at a Kilo 3/7 reunion in Scio, NY in September 2021. Kilo company hiked to the graveside of one of our fallen Marines, Medal of Honor recipient Corporal Jason Dunham. A memorial service is held, to remember. We remember always; even when we don’t want to.  We…

My Squad Leader I served in the Marine Corps for twenty-five years.  I was an infantryman and attained the rank of Master Gunnery Sergeant.  I deployed seven times to include three tours in Iraq.  I also served five years overseas.  I received numerous awards decorations to include the Combat Action Ribbon and the Purple Heart. …

Sorry, but it doesn’t bother me As Afghanistan fell to the Taliban following the fiasco of the U.S. withdrawal, headlines from politicians and veterans expressed outrage.  Many asked leading questions “Did hearing the news upset you?” No.  Sorry, but it doesn’t bother me.  Before the response elicits shock allow me to explain. I served three…

Medevac part 3 I don’t remember much about the flight back to the U.S. except for one event. I had to change planes somewhere and I also needed to change my bandages. I received some strange looks in the middle of the airport bathroom tossing bloody gauze in the trash and trying to reapply fresh…

Medevac part 2 The cargo plan was full. The wounded are in stretchers. We are stacked four high and there are four rows. One on each bulkhead, and a row on either side of the center beams. Some are unconscious. We are each bandaged to suit our particular wounds. The front of the plane is…

Medevac part 1 We flew back to the battalion in Al Qa’im.  Several Marines and Sailors were waiting to whisk us into the FRSS (Forward Resuscitative Surgery System) to assess our injuries.  I remember leaning upon my elbow in the stretcher and telling them Sosa and Santos were worse, they should get looked at first. …

Prelude to the medevac The world gets very small when someone is shooting at you.  The most disturbing aspect of the ordeal is not knowing where the fire is coming from, it is the source of the greatest anxiety.  Once the enemy’s location is identified a combination of anger and pursuit set in, a singular…

The last letter When men go to war, when it gets real, they often write the last letter home. It’s an “open in case I don’t make it” letter. The men who write them are generally quite young. I was old guy when I wrote it, I was twenty-seven. Of course, twenty-seven isn’t old, but…

I remember I’m flying on a KC-130 tonight, on a training mission to refuel jets in flight. I’m at a school where grunts learn more about integration with air. I remember another C-130 flight several years ago. I lay wounded on a stretcher, an IV in my arm, a bandaged arm and leg. Marines in…

I didn’t die My son was four years old, playing with his toys in the bath. I was sitting there as he told me about last week.Son: Mommy took us to the park the other day.Me: That’s cool.Son: Yeah, it’s called Felix Field. Felix was in the war. He died…but you didn’t die, you just…

I see him There are some interesting things that develop when you serve in the grunts. One of them is the way we can recognize each other. Not in some vaguely familiar way, I mean even in the dark. We see the guy’s silhouette from afar and we can immediately discern “that’s Hernandez”. It’s some…

Belly of a plane I crawled into the belly of a plane once in my dress blues. Marines stand taller when they wear their dress blues. They stand dignified and proud. It is because they know that when they put on that particular uniform, they represent something greater than themselves; that they are filling a…

A reflection on Corpsman Whenever a Marine bleeds or cries, there’s always a sailor beside them. One thing I love about Corpsmen, is the way they use the phrase “my Marines”. They know we are a cult, and we often make fun of them, but they take it in stride. When the chips are down…