Stryker B-34

The Stryker. The Cavalry's newest "horse". Simply called trucks by the men who drive and ride in them. Only time will tell if this vehicle can prove itself in the deserts of Iraq. Stryker B-34 is the Stryker my son has been assigned to drive while he's in Iraq.

Stryker!

The Stryker's are being outfitted with "slat armor" to protect them from the RPG's that are so popular with the insurgents and terrorists in Iraq.

Nov. 20th, 2003 - Her Birthday

His bride to be is nineteen today. Happy Birthday!

Follow the Flag

A lot of people have commented on the flag that appears on his shoulder in the earlier post.

"Is the photo turned around? Shouldn't the flag point the other way?" Is basically what everyone asks.

No the photo is correct.

This is the correct arrangement because American Soldiers always follow the flag into battle. With the blue field and stars at the front of the patch resembles a flag flowing in the wind ahead os the advancing troops.

The patch on the opposite shoulder is a unit patch - in his case an arrowhead with the bust of an Indian Chief at it's center. If these men face an enemy in combat they will be issued a combat patch which is the same patch with the Indian Chief reversed. The Indian Chief always faces forward because American Soldiers always face the enemy.

Follow the flag into battle and face the enemy - it's part of the symolism of the uniform and a proud part of their unit history.

Before "LD'ing"

Arriving in Kuwait it is time to get ready for departing into Iraq and their duty station. At this point we have no idea where he'll be stationed or when we'll hear from him again. Leaving Kuwait the troops will cross the "line of departure" or LD into Iraq.

The guys organize and clean their equipment. They fire their weapons and sight them in. They get about two weeks to acclimate to the climate.

Before LD'ing

Birthday - Nov. 13th 2003

Today is his birthday. He turned 21 today.

Phone call

Our son was able to call us from Kuwait. He told us that he stopped off in Germany so he actually got to see a little more than just Iraq - even though in Germany he never even left the plane.

He told us that he wouldn't be in touch for a while but not to worry they wouldn't enter Iraq for a couple weeks.

He was also able to give us his address so we can now start writing to him.

Shipping out...

It's three days before his birthday. He called us and told us he loved us and that he would be in touch as soon as he could. Write - I said. Write and give us your address as soon as you know what it will be.

Here's what he said before he hung up the phone.

"You know, I'm twenty years old and never once been outside the continental US. I figured Canada or Mexico would be my first trip. But look at me. I'm on my way half way around the world to a place I'd really rather not visit."

At least as he leaves he still has a sense of humor. I hope it stays intact...

He's on his way as I write this.

Something I've Heard...

He proposed to her, but it's not like it was only his idea. She wanted it to happen as well. So why is it that he is being blamed for ruining her life?

I heard through a mutual acquaintance that her mother doesn't understand how "he" could do this to "her". That she should be free to date other people. That he shouldn't be holding her back, that she has a life to live other than waiting for him.

Well, this was their decision. Not his decision. I know my son well enough to understand that he wouldn't have asked her to marry him if it wasn't what she wanted as well.

With this kind of pressure from the "home front" the next year may be a little tough on her and through her tough on him as well.

Farewell

I drove him back to his barracks the evening before I had to start back to Minnesota with his car. Now I truly understand why my wife couldn't come on this trip - we had already said our "good byes" and our "stay safes" back in Minnesota when he came home to propose to his girl. She said she couldn't do it again - it was just too hard.

He and I sat in the car talking for a little bit. When we got out he opened the trunk to take out his gear. We shook hands, I gave him a hug and told him to stay safe and come home to us.

With that, I got back in his car and started it. As I pulled away down the street outside the barracks I looked in the rearview mirror. The image I saw will forever be embedded in my brain. There he was, standing with his helmet in one hand and his vest in the other, watching me drive away.

As I turned the corner I looked over my shoulder one last time. He stood in the middle of the street - a dark lonely form just at the edge of the light from the street lamp. He was still standing there as I drove out of sight.

Coffee at Starbucks

He's taken up drinking coffee - I guess being stationed in Seattle will do that to a person. We went to Starbucks to get a grande.

As we were sitting there we discussed morals and convictions. We talked about Iraq and the Iraqis. I hadn't realized until that conversation just what type of man my son had grown up to be.

The Army had educated the entire Brigade about Islam, about Iraq, and about Iraqi society. He told me about these things and how that so much of what he learned was like the discussions we have had about our (somewhat limited) Native American heritage.

The Iraqi are a proud people with beliefs not so unlike the beliefs of our Native American ancestors. Family and friendship were more important than anything else. Time has no meaning. He hadn't even left the US and already he had a deep respect for the people he was about to meet.

We also talked about how he'd feel if he had to kill. He said he'd do it if he had to when the time came but that he wouldn't be proud of himself if it came to that. He understands that to come back home may require him to raise his rifle.

He was a man - he had developed beliefs and convictions - and I know it wasn't just the Army that had this affect on him. He and I believed many of the same things.

Mustang Roundup

Winter in the Rockies. A Ford Mustang in Seattle. A soldier who doesn't want his car to sit a year unattended with nothing protecting it from the elements except a plastic tarp.

I flew out to Seattle with one of my wife's best girlfriends (yeah - go figure) to pick up his Mustang and ferry it back to Minnesota... through the Rockies... in November.

The changes that were made because of 9/11 caused some hassle at the airport terminal on the way out. Two people flying one way, on short notice, with different last names. Needless to say the two of us almost had to submit to a strip search to board the plane.

We arrived to the Pacific rains of November - dreary and dark - sort of like the mood I was in. We could only stay a day or two and then had to hustle back to Minnesota.