Random thoughts of home

The transition from combat zone back to life-as-usual can blow your mind. One week I’m on a sniper position defending Donald Rumsfeld, the next week I’m sunning myself in the front yard in my underwear.

For the first week or so it was really strange to be home. I loved every minute of it of course. There were just certain things that took a little getting used to. Driving was a big one. In Iraq we drive like freaking maniacs. During a patrol I drive as fast as the Humvee will allow; peddle to the floor everywhere we go. Also, because of the constant threat of road side bombs we ignore lanes altogether and drive in the middle of the road. When we approach civilian traffic they pull off to the shoulder and give us plenty of room to pass. Those who don’t get out of the way quickly enough get rammed off the road by a six inch thick steel bumper. We can’t afford to stop.

When I first began driving back home I had the same nervous pit in my stomach that I have had for the last eight months. I drove a bunch of friends to the beach (a route I have taken every year for a decade) and missed my exit twice. I’m just not used to paying much attention to road signs. I’m usually more concerned with what’s on the edge of the road than what’s above it.

Another thing that was strange at first was the ability to use my cell phone again. We all take for granted the fact that we can call anyone we want any time we want. I think the greatest thing for me was that my friends and family could actually call me for a change. For over a year now they have had to sit patiently by and wait for me to contact them. But for two weeks my phone rang off the hook and I loved it. My dad called me everyday to say hello just because he finally could.

Friends of mine who had already gone on leave told me to prepare myself for a barrage of stupid questions. They said that the inevitable, “Have you killed anyone?” (nope) would rear it’s ugly head frequently. For me that wasn’t the case at all. Friends and family did ask me questions constantly, but they were always intelligent and thoughtful. Mainly, people want to know about your job and are also interested in your daily interactions with the Iraqi people. Most people are sick of the mainstream news coverage and want to see another perspective on the war. After only a few days at home I understood exactly why. Watching CNN or Fox coverage of Iraq depressed me more than actually living in the war zone. It made me realize how our loved ones must feel and how easy it is to worry. The news anchor gives you all the latest casualty information but rarely enough to tell you where the soldiers were actually killed or where in the country they were stationed. Several times I heard reports that made me worry about all the friends I had left over there. Very rarely did the opinions of political commentators (from either party) jive with my personal experiences in country.

A positive trend that surprised me was the overwhelming support that I think most people have for the troops. While many people (maybe a majority by now) have serious questions about the war, the vast majority of people seem to separate their disagreements with government policy from their attitude toward American soldiers. At home I encountered people who talked at length about their opposition to this war and yet at the end of the conversation shook my hand and said they’d pray for my safety.

One touching show of support in particular comes to mind as well. While on leave I had to see the doctor to get a prescription for some medication. When my doctor learned that I was on leave from Iraq he not only waived all doctor’s fees, but offered to pay the cost to fill my prescription from his own pocket.

Of course the most frequent show of support from concerned family and friends was the wish to inflicting bodily harm. I have never had so many people offer to break my legs before. I’d like to think that it means people care about me and would rather have me safely at home, though I’m pretty sure a few of the girls just really wanted to injure me.