Letters from the front

Early in 2007, news reports discussed how small towns have been disproportionately affected by the Iraq war. Small towns are where you find a lot of veterans. Small towns tend to be tightly knit, their social fabric providing inhabitants a degree of support not found in big cities. In small towns, everybody knows everybody.

Barnwell, S.C., is one such small town. Three of its young men have died in Iraq. A number of others are active-duty members of the military, deployed to U.S. bases and war theaters around the world. Many, many more in Barnwell are veterans of past wars - Vietnam, World War II, Korea. A new veterans' park is steps from downtown. It is likely that the people you meet there are vets. Or know vets. Or have enlisted children.

I went to Barnwell. I wanted to understand how the war in Iraq has shaped life in this small town. In the course of my reporting, I spoke with Linda Myrick, whose son, William, was a First Lieutenant in the Army, stationed in Iraq, a convoy commander and, later, executive officer.

In the summer, I met Linda and her husband Bill. They opened their house to me and shared their experiences and feelings. I corresponded with William, who graciously wrote long replies to my queries.

Below is an extended selection of the e-mails I received from Linda and her son.

-Adam Parker

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July 31, 2007

William went back to Iraq July 19. It was a hard day. For 2 weeks he'd been running around in shorts, flip flops and tee shirts. After lunch on Thursday he ran up stairs and came down in his Army clothes ready to back into combat. While we were having lunch he dropped his own roadside bomb and told us he started taking the exams for the Special Forces. He was so excited. He doesn't care for the regular Army personal, but the men and woman that are accepted into the Special Forces unites of the Army are a cut above and he wants to join them. What could we say? He told us they take 1 in 100 applicants and even as smart as he is, he passed the language part of the exam with a low score. So low he is not qualified to take Arabic (than you God) but will, if he's excepted, be taught Spanish. He'll spend 2 years at Ft. Bragg in N. C. and then be sent to South America to help train soldiers in whatever government the US supports that day. Bill and I were in shock as we thought he would get out of the Army in Nov of '09 and have a life. After William left we talked it over and decided that unless our son could find a job where he'd jump out of a helicopter, land on a water tower, repel down, blow up something, swim out to sea and be pick up by a submarine, he'd be miserable. : Bill recently was invited to a Republican event in Washington and met Bush. My husband : told the President how much he respected him for having the courage to invade (which is the only word you can use in describing what Bush did to that country) Iraq. I met Congressmen Joe Wilson last Saturday and told him I felt we should bring out troops home. He prattled off the old party line about how awful the people were treated under Hussein and I asked him how much better they were under U.S. rule, no water, food, medical attention or electricity. Wilson said Hussein killed thousands of innocent people and I asked him how many have the U.S. killed. He said we only destroyed the guilty. I said the majority of Americans do not support the war, but he and Bush would continue surging on and I hoped he had plenty of boxes to pack up his office after the next election. Wilson's aid took his arm and dragged him away, with me in hot pursuit. When (William) came home he spoke to my Sunday school class and told them going into Iraq was a mistake : but we could not leave. ... William told them what murderous, loathsome scum Al Qaida is and how they target children. He had to stop there and compose himself. He talked about how hard life is for the Iraqi people. That each day they forage for food and pray to stay alive. :

Linda

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Aug. 16, 2007

Here are the goods. I graduated from The Citadel in 2004. A little background on the Citadel...unlike service academies, The Citadel does not require service in the military upon graduation. As I entered my freshman year, I had absolutely no intentions of joining the military. On the contrary, I was adamant that after I left The Citadel, you would never see me in a uniform again. Just like everyone else, the events of September 11 had quite an impact on my outlook of the world around me. I realized for the first time that America had enemies who were willing and able to wage war against our country. As I watched the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq unfold, I felt that I could had the capabilities to do some good in the military. I chose an Army contract because it was larger and there were more opportunities. As an ROTC cadet you make a wish list of what types of jobs you would prefer, and then you compete with other cadets for slots in the national OML. My top choices were Infantry, Armor, and Engineers. Instead of any of those, I was branched as a Transportation Officer. Apparently, the war in Iraq (2004) was seeing more attacks on logistical convoys rather than conventional light infantry or armor. Logistical elements were seen as "soft" targets, therefore easier to hit. As a result, a lot of junior officers who wanted more combat oriented jobs (combat arms), where sent to the logistical side (combat service support). One of the perks of this shift was that I was allowed to attend U.S. Army Ranger school (which), prior to the war, did not allow support Soldiers to attend. After a few hard knocks and long nights (4 months) I graduated. The lessons I learned from my instructors and fellow students at Ranger school gave me confidence, knowledge, and skills that would later assist me in leading my Soldiers down some of the most dangerous roads in Iraq. After graduation, I was stationed at Ft. Richardson in Anchorage, Alaska. Alaska was no fun for a southern boy. The hunting and fishing were great, but 30 below keep me in doors when I wasn't training.

Iraq

By the time we arrived in Iraq, most of the jitters were gone. We had trained hard and were ready to get it started and over with. It was still pretty warm in October, but not as bad as what we saw this summer. The month of Ramadan was almost over and the unit we were replacing had been beat up pretty badly. I was the platoon leader of over 90 Paratroopers. We were the largest transportation element in the brigade. Our job consisted of running convoys consisting of food, water, ammunition, fuel, and anything else to locations around in and south of the Baghdad area. My Soldiers learned quickly to control traffic, identify IED's, and escalate force if necessary. We stayed on the roads for long periods of time and worked long hours. Navigation plays a key role when running convoys. As the convoy commander, it is my job to maintain communications within and outside of your convoy, navigate foreign terrain, control your vehicle, control surrounding traffic, and watch for anything to happen. I mean anything. Besides the enemy threat, there are pedestrians, camels, merchants, other convoys, and plenty of other distractions. That was my job for the first six months in Iraq. Then, I was promoted to executive officer in another unit that was already in Fallujah. As an XO, your job is to ensure that all logistics for YOUR company is taken care of. Eventually, a lot of other tasks were added to the title, but basically that is what you do. I ensure all vehicles, weapons, and equipment and functional and ready for combat and I ensure that all soldiers in the company are receiving whatever supplies they need in a timely manner. The down side of being an XO is that I would rarely leave "the wire", which thrilled my mother to no end. I, used to the adrenaline and fast pace of the PL(platoon leader), am now confined to the company CP to track maintenance, supply, and other fun reports.

Support from home

Of course, the support from friends, family, and strangers has been immense. Everyday, packages come pouring in. At the beginning of the tour, it was overwhelming. Church groups, co-workers of my parents, and, friends all sent enough cookies, toothbrushes, batteries, and baby wipes to last me for several tours.

William

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Aug. 30, 2007

The heat at the worst part of the day is pretty suffocating. If you go outside the wire, every measure is taken to keep you from becoming a heat casualty. Humvee's have AC but at 120 degrees it doesn't make much difference. Inside the wire its not so bad. There are massive generators everywhere and AC's are pretty common. The guys on the outposts have it pretty bad. They normally run off of one or two small generators which power only mission essential equipment. They rotate out every two weeks or so.

My colleagues are fine. Right now we are on month 11. Working side-by-side everyday for almost a year can take a toll on any working relationship. Everyone works hard and produces an excellent product, no matter what their job is. But the truth is that we are all tired of looking at each other by now and are ready to get out of here. The men and women I work with put in over 100 hours a week and have been doing so since October. No weekends or days off. You are always on call and no one complains when its time to go to work. The operational tempo has been so high that you really don't notice how much work you are actually doing. It really amazes me how we started from day one and have not stopped or slowed down.

Friends

It is really tough as a junior officer not to form tight friendships with your subordinates. You are supposed to keep a professional distance in order to maintain discipline. I have fallen slightly short of that standard. I believe that my platoon of paratroopers is the funniest, wildest, and smartest group of people that I have ever worked with. They work tirelessly in the worst conditions imaginable and maintain the same energy and positive attitude as if they were in a tropical paradise. I know that as soon as we get back my little gang will scatter all over the world again and I might not see any on them for a while. It will be tough to see them go, but I have seen them in action and have no fear that they will continue to do great things, no matter what life throws at them.

Big life lessons...

1. Barnwell, South Carolina is much more fun than Iraq.

2. Trust what the old guys tell you.

3. As soon as you aren't nervous anymore, there is a problem.

4. You are probably coming back to Iraq.

The best thing I've seen... I'll have to get back to you. The freedom bird out of here, I guess.

The worst thing I've seen... without going into too much detail, is a rocket attack.

IED's are pretty bad but our armor is really tough. Unless it is a direct hit, you will be ok. EFP's are the most dangerous thing on the road but I have been blessed enough not to come across one yet. When you are on the road, you are ready for anything. So when the hit comes, it is expected and you react accordingly. But rockets are the most nerve racking of them all. You just don't know when one is coming. We have mortars hit the FOB all of the time but they are small and normally the aiming is off. When mortars come, we've been known to stay in bed rather than jump into a bunker. But when a rocket hits, people start scrambling. I've noticed that some of the more battle-hardened soldiers comment that since the rockets started, they haven't been able to sleep. The sound is the most distinct. You hear what sounds like a jet engine flying right into your ear, then the actual detonation is massive. The damage is always extensive. Nobody has really been right around here since those things started coming in.

William

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Nov. 11, 2007

We are not going to be able to handle company this Wed. I don't understand this myself, but it gets worse each day. I thought I'd be out of my mind with happiness, but all of us are so on edge. Bill had the worse crying fit today and I go off the deep end all the time. Yesterday was the last Citadel football game and usually we hang around with our friends until midnight. Last night we packed up and got out of there a few minutes after the game. I didn't go to church this morning and I wanted to ask all my friends to pray for William on the trip out into and out of Baghdad. I was not going to Sunday school and cry my eyes out. Bill and I have to go to a Veteran's Day program this afternoon and I'd rather be stripped naked, wrapped in barbed wire and rolled around the Circle than do this. I'm trying to say focused on Christmas. I've torn the house apart, washed all the windows, dusted the OUTSIDE of the house and displaced many millions of spiders. I've laid out things for Bill to do, including cutting down 400 tress in the yard, mowing the pasture and manicuring all the roads on the place. For the first time in our marriage, he didn't argue. Monday, I will vacuum all the books in the den, all the stuff on the walls and scrub the floors.

Linda

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Nov. 13, 2007

Yesterday morning I opened my e-mail, there was a message from William, "One day and a wake up." Must be some secret message. Mom was not issued the code book, so it went over my head. Rebecca, my daughter, scouted the military talk network and found out the phrase originated in Nam. The soldiers would say they had 364 days and a wake up left, so we figured the message came in the morning to us (which was their afternoon) and he should be moving out tonight (there, morning). This morning Bill and I were eating breakfast. : He handed me the paper. I opened it up and on page A4 was a story about troop cuts in Iraq. The story said 30,000 troops of the 1st Calvary were moving out. The 25th Infantry is assigned to the 1st Calvary. There is was, in the paper, it's happening. No more extended dates... William was coming out of Iraq. My life changed, it's in the paper. I folded the page, put it in the front seat of my car and took it with me. Every stop, every person I knew saw the paper. It's happening. They are moving out - coming home. Fourteen months, 409 days, it's over. : I am different today. It was in the paper. My head is up, Barnwell is a wonderful place to live, again. : I didn't know I was walking around with me head always down, until today. All of a sudden I began to notice things at a different level and I realized that I was walking with my head down all the time. Tonight I went outside, sat on the joggling board and watched the sun set. Did you see it? It was spectacular. The sun was setting on the last day of my ordeal, and I was so thankful. Adam, that's about it. Theodore Roosevelt (who is my all time most respected person) said, "It's not having been in the dark house, but haven't gotten out, that counts." The door to the dark house is open and I can see the sunlight, but I am still inside. We have not gotten the call. When I get out I will never look back. I do not want to remember or talk about it, so this is it from me.

Linda

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Nov. 14, 2007

Still no word.

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Nov. 26, 2007

The week of Nov. 12 was pretty tense for us. We read the 1st Calvary was pulling out that week and we sat on the phone, trying to get it to hatch. Bill and I took it to bed with us at night as we didn't want to be falling all over ourselves trying to find the phone in the dark. We did everything we could not to leave the house and by Friday there wasstill not word. We could find no more comments on the troop movements and nothing about a mid-air crash of helicopters shuttling the boys and girls out, so we figured William must have made it to Kuwait. On Friday morning about 8:30 I was here by myself and the phone rang. "This is the AT&T international operator. I have a collect callfrom William, if you accept the charges please press one." I was shaking so bad I had to take my left hand, grip my right hand index finger, guide it to the keypad and press one. If I'd messed up I would have lost the most important call in my life. I'd have given up the farm to pay for it. William was in Kuwait. It was all over. We talked for a while. He was so happy to be out of Iraq and in the best mood.

We didn't want to hang up and talked about Christmas and all the fun we were going to have, my stupendous decorations I was planning, the 80 foot tree a friend had given us for the living room, the people that were calling us all the time and how many pounds of fired chicken I was going to cook for him. For a week I'd imagined what it would be like to get the word and know it was all over. I wonder how I'd react and cry just thinking about it. Would I run outside, throw myself done on the ground, raise my hand to heaven and thank Jesus for protecting him?

Would be able to function or talk? What was it going to like not living under the gun after 14 months? After he hung up, there were no tears, no shouting for joy. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir wasn't on the back porch singing the Hallelujah Chorus.

There was no huge display of fire works being shot off in the pasture. The Pope didn't walk through the front door and tell me I'd been delivered. None of those things you'd expect when you received such monumental good new. I just sat there and smiled. All I did was smile. Then I got up, dress and continued my day. For most of the day there was a residue of heaviness in my chest that I'd been carrying around for 14 months. When I felt it I had toremind my brain that I didn't have to be afraid any more. It was over. Saturday morning when I woke up I started praying for him, as I did every morning, but I had to tell my half-awake brain I didn't have to pray desperately for him anymore, it was over. About the middle of Saturday afternoon, my brain got the message it was over and my entire continence changes. I didn't feel like crying for joy, I was filled with happiness. It was a light, airy, clear, sharp delightful feeling. The tress were greener, the sun shined brighter, the air was pure and my soul was just like the air, but rested, calm. :

I am living for Dec. 21. William said he'd rather have one of his friends pick him up in Atlanta. He thinks it's going to be emotional and wants a few minutes to adjust to being home and out of hell. I told him I was crushed as I was so looking forward to battling Christmas traffic in Atlanta for 3 hours coming and going. That I'd miss sitting in the car with Rebecca and him as they reverted back to being 6 and 7 talking about me under their breath (which they always do when they get together for over 2 seconds). That I'd be right here frying chicken, so come on home. I had the family here for Thanksgiving and you would think it would be a joyous time for me, but all I wanted them to do was eat their turkey and go home so I could start getting ready for Christmas. I didn't tell say that, but I was thinking it. I've bought $300 worth of Christmas lights and am having an electrician come over on Thursday to rewire the porch to accommodate the lights. The tree will fill the living room, so we'll be opening our gifts in the hall and it will take all day as I have not spared the horses. This will be one for the records books. There is a place in my Bible for "Special Events" and I wrote about Friday. I am not one to mark in my Bible (it's kind of like spitting on the flag or someone's grave) so you know how much that day meant to me, for sure.

Linda