The Story
A Veteran’s Day reflection on the day that brought me here, and the renewal of a promise I have no right to break.
I wrote the following story shortly after getting out of the Army because I didn’t want to forget. I publish it this Veteran’s Day for the same reason. No, that’s not true. I publish it now because I HAVE started to forget, and that simply is not permissible.
All names, and some details, have been changed.
No one should mistake this for a political piece. It’s just my story. Like most veterans, I have a whole mix of feelings about it. The strongest one of all is gratitude for having served alongside the best people I have ever met. I have no idea how I managed to get by in your company for as long as I did, but I’m grateful for, and proud of, the experience.
Happy Veteran’s Day to all you salty war dogs out there.
I knelt in the hot, dusty street scanning rooftops through my rifle scope, waiting for the call to load up and move out. Nothing stirred that I could see, but that didn’t mean that nothing stirred.
The city was still, but stillness in Mosul didn’t mean calm. Moments of peace there, no matter how long passing, always felt to me like nothing more than preludes to some shattering force. Like the seconds…
